A Friend Closer Than a Brother
by manxcatmom
Summary: A fast-paced retelling of Season 3, starting with the Season 2 finale. What really happened that day in Acre? What if Guy wasn't the one who...? What if Marian didn't...? Will the Sheriff ever get his comeuppance? And will Robin and Guy ever find it in their hearts to make peace and join forces? Partially follows season 3, then veers off in a new direction for a happier ending.
1. Chapter 1 Prelude I Love Robin Hood

**Disclaimer:** I do not own BBC or any part thereof, including any characters from "Robin Hood". No profit, only the enjoyment received from writing this story, and from sharing it with others.

**Summary:** My first fan fiction. A season 3 re-write (spoilers if you haven't seen all three seasons, as some material is borrowed from the show) Characters: Guy, Robin, Marian, Meg, all the gang, Sheriff, OC. The story starts with the season 2 finale that most of us hated! So, what really happened in that town square in Acre? And how did it ultimately affect everyone involved? Tune in to find out!

**Author's Note:** An update for readers: On the advice of a fellow writer, I have made some minor additions and changes to help the story make more sense. These are in Chapter 2 (The Aftermath), specifically at the beginning in Guy's soliloquy, and also in Chapter 3 (Revenge Gone Wrong) during Robin and Guy's confrontation at the river. I will be posting more chapters as soon as possible. Thank you for reading, and a special thanks to those of you who have reviewed the story-I appreciate it very much!

PRELUDE

"I LOVE ROBIN HOOD…."

1194 A.D. It was midday, in a hot, dusty town square in Acre, in the the Holy Land. A tall, dark-haired man, dressed in black, with an upraised sword in his hand, moved with rapid strides toward another man who lay in the middle of the square, fallen from his horse and wounded by an arrow in his shoulder. A young woman emerged from the shadows of a nearby house, rushed toward him, and placed herself between the two men.

"It's over, Guy!"

"No! Marian, get out of the way, now. Let me do this thing, and then we will be together!"

He tried to move past her, but the woman followed him and blocked his way. She stood firm, unarmed, to hinder him from his goal, to finish off the man who lay moaning and prostrate behind her.

"I've fought all my life for England. Do you think I'm going to let you kill my king?"

Marian. The woman he loved and lived for. She was so spirited, so passionate, so lovely in her flowing white dress that she took his breath away.

He might have admired her courage, too, if she had not been, at this moment, so unyieldingly obstinate. She would not see reason. His anger at her stubborn and foolish determination to stop him grew until it boiled over. He swung his sword and shouted at her.

"Marian, get out of the way!"

"No, Guy. Can't you see? Your plan has failed. This is madness! Stop this now, before it's too late!"

But he would not hear her warning. His mind was on the victory, now so close it was within his grasp.

"If I do this, I will have power, Marian, power beyond reckoning!"

The words surged through him as he said them, and he gloried in the feeling of unconquerable strength that it gave him. He smiled at her, eyes aglow with his own passion, as he invited her to share in his triumph.

"I will have my lands again, my title, wealth. After I do this, I will have everything I want and more. You will be my wife, and we will be together!"

It was a command, not a request. A command at the point of his sword.

She looked back at him. The man she thought she knew, the man she long hoped he would become, was gone. In his place was a stranger she neither knew nor understood, much less loved. The pity she might have felt for him dissolved into contempt for what she clearly saw he now was.

"I would rather die than be with you, Guy of Gisborne!"

He drew back, lowering his sword. She sensed his confusion, his disbelief, and then, his rage. She no longer cared. Only one thing mattered to her now.

"I love Robin Hood," she said softly.

A secret, unbidden joy leapt up in her heart as she said it. Her face became radiant with a smile he would have given anything in life to have been meant for him. But she was no longer looking at him, only past him, through him, as though he were no longer there.

"I'm going to marry him, Guy. I love Robin Hood."

He felt as though someone had struck him a blow in the stomach, and followed it with a dagger through his heart. The world reeled and spun wildly out of control around him. For a moment he was blind, deaf, falling into a chasm without end, black as a moonless night.

Then everything came rushing back on him in a torrent—the groans of the injured king, the distant shouts of Robin and his men as they raced toward the square. Marian, eyes shining with love for another. And his lord, Sheriff Vaisey, who stepped out from the shadows to stand beside him, with a malicious and very satisfied smile on his face as he took in the scene before him.

"I warned you, didn't I? Lepers, women are lepers. And liars. You can't trust them, least of all this one. She's betrayed you yet again, my friend. She's Robin's girl after all, just like you feared. And his traitorous little spy. So, what are you going to do about it? Nothing? I might have guessed. It's up to me, then. You're a gutless coward, Gisborne."

Frozen, rooted to the ground, Guy watched as Vaisey, his own sword drawn, advanced on Marian and ordered her out of the way.

"No, I won't let you kill the king. Never! You'll have to kill me first, Sheriff Vaisey."

Before Guy could stop him, he did.

He saw her sink down, Vaisey's sword in her body. A scarlet blossom spread across the front of her dress. Her eyes turned to him, seeking his face, before they slowly closed in pain and shock.

"Guy, help me…."

But still he could not move. He could only stare at her. His sword dropped from nerveless fingers, though he did not know it. He felt nothing, could do nothing, until the Sheriff's rough grasp on his arm propelled him toward the horses. He saw Robin, he saw other men run toward the fallen king, and Marian. The square was suddenly alive with voices, shouts, cries of horror.

Dragged along by the Sheriff, stumbling on legs gone weak, he somehow mounted his horse and followed Vaisey out of the square and down a narrow street. He looked behind him only once, to see Robin kneeling by Marian's side.

"It's not over yet, Hood!" shouted Vaisey.

They were the last words Guy heard, before the roaring in his ears blocked out everything else.


	2. Chapter 2 The Aftermath

THE AFTERMATH

Sir Guy of Gisborne, acting Lord of Locksley Manor, favourite weapon of Sheriff Vaisey of Nottingham, and terror of the populace for miles around, slumped at the table in the dining hall of said manor in the wee hours of a warm summer night, getting quietly drunk.

A bottle of wine, newly opened, stood beside another, newly emptied. He refilled his goblet and drank it down. The wine had lost its sweetness, and now tasted sour in his mouth, but it mattered not. All that mattered was to numb the pain, and not to think or feel ever again, at least not until morning. Especially not about Marian.

Marian was dead.

He shut his aching eyes, and ran his hand over his face, rough with several days of unshaven beard.

Marian. If only….

_If only I could wake up and find this is all just a nightmare, a bad dream that will fade away with the bright morning sun. Acre. Half a year ago. Did I really go there to try to kill King Richard? I suppose I did. It seemed so important at the time, so very important. Damned if I can remember why. It all feels so long ago now, and far away. And so trivial._

_Sheriff Vaisey. What did he promise me? 'Do this, Gisborne, kill the king, and you will have wealth, your title, and power. You will sit at my right hand, and share power and glory with me. You will be a god amongst men.' And I believed him. I believed every word of it.  
_

_But he lied to me. Marian was right. 'It's over, Guy', she told me, and she was right. The mission had already failed. So why did I stay? Why didn't I get away then? Instead, I threatened her with my sword. The woman I loved. And I stood there and did nothing when Vaisey...  
_

"I love Robin Hood."

Guy took another long drink from the goblet. Second bottle of wine almost empty.

_Marian, Marian! Why did you have to put me in that position? I lied to the Sheriff to protect you when I learned you were the Nightwatchman. I came back to fight by your side, and die with you if that was our destiny, when Nottingham was under siege. I risked everything for you. I believed you, I trusted you. I was sure there was a chance for us, because I loved you with all my heart and soul._

_And this was how you rewarded me? All the time I trusted you, you were lying to me. Playing me for a fool, laughing behind my back at my gullibility. Betraying me, with Robin Hood. My worst enemy. Why, Marian?  
_

_You forced me to stand by and watch your destruction, and now the memory of it will stay with me forever. It will follow me right into hell._

He poured the last of the wine into the goblet. His hands shook as he did so. The hands that once were so steady, so sure, that used to wield his sword with such effortless grace, were now trembling, his grip as frail as an old man's. A trickle of wine ran down his fingers, warm and red and sticky, like blood.

_Marian. Would I have killed her? If the Sheriff hadn't reached her first, would I have run her through myself? When she told me she loved Hood, I hated her more than I ever hated anyone before. It was in my heart, it was, if only for an instant. I wanted to kill her. I did kill her. In my heart I did. _

_Vaisey was right. I am a coward. I should have killed the Sheriff right then and there. No, not then. No, long before then. I should have killed him when Marian begged me to. But I didn't. She paid the price for my cowardice, and now her blood is on my hands, too._

He remembered the fight with Robin, intense but brief, before he and Vaisey escaped and boarded their ship bound for England. The Sheriff had been intent on making his way back to Nottingham with all possible speed. Nothing else to be done. The voyage home had seemed endless. Weeks spent staring across an empty horizon, listening to Vaisey alternately cursing their disastrous mission and the anticipated displeasure of Prince John, and gloating over the defeat of Robin Hood accomplished by Marian's murder. Time, heavy on his hands and his heart. Time to learn what it meant to truly hate. To hate Robin, hate Vaisey, and, most of all, hate himself.

The second bottle of wine was empty. He felt vaguely sick. He had never been a heavy drinker, until their return home. Now it seemed like all he ever did. He tried to recall his last full meal, and couldn't. The room felt hot and close. He peeled off his shirt. It was stiff with dirt and smelled of sweat, as did he. His skin itched. He kicked off his dusty, mud-spattered boots and flung them across the floor. His hair fell down, lank and greasy, across his brow.

Once, a lifetime ago, he had cut quite a figure in Nottingham. The man in black. Tall, powerful, imposing, his authority unchecked and unchallenged. Dark hair swept back from a strong, handsome face. Ice-blue eyes, whose intense and fierce glower cowed the stoutest-hearted peasant into quivering submission.

Oh, the pleasure of watching those villagers scurrying for cover at his approach! How he had repaid them, all those who, so many years ago, had driven him and his sister from Locksley without shame or pity. With the Sheriff's blessing, he had repaid them.

_And now_, he thought, _Vaisey has repaid my years of loyal service by killing the only person I ever truly loved. Marian. The only person I lived for. Without her, my world has turned to ash._

_There's only one thing left for me now. Revenge. I will repay the Sheriff. He'll answer for what he did to Marian. He'll answer to me. And Robin Hood. His day is coming, too. I'll kill them both for what they did._

He slammed the goblet down on the table and stood up. The room was spinning in slow circles. Retribution would have to wait for another day. No matter. He had time. Revenge, so he had been told, was a dish best served cold.

His hands gripped the edge of the table, and his head dropped down on his chest. _I'm so tired, so very tired. Sick. Must get to bed. Feel better in the morning. Need sleep. And some breakfast. Then I'll deal with Vaisey, and Robin Hood. I'll make them both pay…._

He let go of the table, made one unsteady lurch toward the stairs and his bed, and went down with a crash, measuring his length on the hard wooden floor.

The house steward found him there at dawn, lying in a pool of vomit. With a resigned sigh, he called two other servants, ordered them to clean up their lord and master, carry him upstairs, and put him to bed. Then he went to the manor's kitchen to concoct yet another hangover remedy.

It was shaping up to be another long day in Locksley.

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In Acre, Robin and the other outlaws took grateful refuge from their enemies after the attempted assassination of King Richard. Djaq's uncle, Bassam, welcomed them, and offered his large and pleasant home to them without reserve. Under other circumstances the outlaws, accustomed to a rough and dirty life in their camp in Sherwood, might have had opportunity to appreciate the lovely gardens, the pool stocked with fish, the cages of exotic tamed birds unlike anything they had ever seen, the spacious beds spread with silk sheets, and the unfamiliar but delicious food they were served that night.

But those surface pleasures could not wipe away the anxiety they all felt, which centered on the comatose patient in the little room upstairs, clinging tenuously to life, and the man, their leader and friend, who kept a constant vigil by her side.

"Robin, you must get some sleep."

"I can't. Not until I know."

"Everything's being done. Come on, this isn't doing any good. Have something to eat, then get some rest."

"Leave me be, Much."

Much reported to the other men. "He won't listen. I tried."

"His body will take over at some point and force him to sleep."

"Any changes?"

"It's very touch and go right now. The king's physician is doing everything he can, and so are Djaq and the Saracen healer she brought. We can only wait, and pray."

Time passed slowly. Hours became days, then a week. The hearts of all were heavy with sadness and homesickness. Bassam, eager to be of comfort, could not have been more kind and hospitable. Along with Djaq, he saw to their every need, and protested against any ideas that they were overstaying their welcome. He would not hear of their patient being moved elsewhere.

"No," he said firmly. "She must stay here. It is not safe to move her."

King Richard, stationed with his men outside Acre, and recovering from his own injury at Vaisey's hands, sent his bodyguard, Robin's friend Carter, to the house every day to bring back a report. Then he came himself to speak with Robin. He was shocked to see the man—pale, grieving, exhausted by the terrible waiting.

"Robin, don't lose heart. She's strong," he said, as he laid a reassuring hand on his arm.

"I know, sire. I just keep praying for a miracle."

Finally, one afternoon, it happened.

"Robin, come quickly!"

He ran into the room, dropped down beside the bed, and took the little white hand in his. Her eyes, the most beautiful he had ever seen, slowly opened, and looked up at him.

"Robin, love…."

The tears ran unheeded down his cheeks as he bent and kissed her. "Marian, you've come back to me!"

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The following month, Robin of Locksley and Lady Marian were married, by the king, with only their closest friends in attendance. It was a quiet bridal. She was still too weak to stand for long. She leaned upon Little John for support when she spoke her vows. But she wore a long white dress, and held a bouquet of lilies picked from Bassam's garden, with a wreath of them crowning her dark hair. The garment she had been wearing when she was stabbed by Vaisey, torn and stained with dried blood, Robin had burned, with a shudder of horror at the memory.

Bassam hosted a feast for the small party that exceeded their expectations, and the new couple did not feel they had missed out on much by not having their wedding in Locksley. Food in generous quantity was followed by music and dancing. The bride and groom looked on in delight. Marian spent most of the evening lying down on a couch, but the new couple, with youthful optimism, promised each other that they would soon be able to dance together themselves. One more happy surprise awaited them as the evening drew to a close.

"We wanted to tell you first," said a beaming Will Scarlett, hand in hand with Djaq.

"Congratulations to you both!" Robin and Marian exclaimed. "Uncle Bassam approves, we understand."

"Yes," said the elderly Saracen man, who had just joined them. "My Sofiya, she has found a man who makes her happy, and so I am happy. They have my blessing."

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Later that night, Robin lay beside Marian, with a cool breeze, scented by the sea, fluttering the curtains around their bed. She rested her head against his encircling arm.

"How are you, love?"

"Tired, but very happy."

"Hurting?"

"No. The medicine helps."

"Good." He chuckled. "Not exactly how we envisioned our wedding night, is it? For instance, I thought at least that we'd be spending it in Locksley Manor."

She laughed. "That's true. Robin, I—I'm sorry, darling, but I don't think I can—we can—right now—"

He kissed her hair. "Marian, don't worry about that. It will happen, in time, when you're better. Right now, it's heaven just being here with you."

He sighed. "Love, I just want you to get well. That's all that matters to me. When I thought I had lost you…."

"I'm right here, and I will get better, I promise you. I feel stronger every day."

They were silent, holding each other close.

"Robin, what's going to happen, I mean, when I'm well? Are we going back home, to England? And if we do, then what?"

"We're not going to worry about that, not tonight. I just want to live now, in this moment, with you."

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They passed several more weeks in Bassam's home as Marian continued to recover. King Richard, back in health, came one day, with Carter, to wish them well.

"Robin, Marian, my thanks. I am in your debt."

"As we are in yours, sire. Where will you go now?"

"Back to the battle, Robin. This time, perhaps, God willing, to a peace treaty. But I pray to return to England soon, to deal with Sheriff Vaisey, the Black Knights, and my brother, who plots against me. And you?"

"In your service, sire, wherever it leads me. Back home, I hope, when Marian is able to travel safely."

"I hope so, too, Robin of Locksley. You are needed there, by many. I will send word to you as soon as possible."

"Thank you, sire. I shall do my best."

"You always have, Robin. You have been an unfailing support to me, and a faithful friend."

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Two weeks later, plans were in place to take a ship back to England. Robin, Marian, and the others found it hard to say goodbye to their many new acquaintances made in the months they had lived in Bassam's house. Will and Djaq, who insisted that no one call her Sofiya but her uncle, had married by then, in a somewhat more boisterous wedding than Robin and Marian's. It had been their stated wish to stay behind, in the Holy Land, and not return with the rest of the gang. So Robin was surprised when they told him they had decided to go back after all.

"You're happy here, you told me. I can't ask you to come back with us. We will be facing danger, hardship—"

"Robin, we can't stay here when Vaisey is still in power. When he's defeated, then we will return. For now, our place is with you," Will said.

"Besides," added Djaq, "who would look after Marian on the journey home, if not me?"

"She has me," answered Robin.

Djaq shook her head. "No good, Robin. You'd make a terrible nurse. No, she needs me."

"What about when we get home?" Much asked Robin after he joined them. "Surely you're not going to make Marian live in Sherwood, in our camp?"

"No, Much, I'm not. But she will have to stay in hiding, just the same, as long as Vaisey and Gisborne run the show in Nottingham. I thought of Matilda. She might be able and willing to help. If not her, we'll find another way. Right now we just need to get back in one piece."

"I'm going to miss all the wonderful food here. The stuff we're served on board ship is awful most of the time. Not fit for dogs. And John gets so seasick, too," added Much, with a grimace. "It's going to be a long journey, any which way."

Much's gloomy prophecy proved all too true. Between storms, run-ins with pirates, and shortages of food and supplies, it took the Sherwood gang, and the other luckless passengers on board, more than five months to reach England's shores. When the rocky cliffs of Portsmouth Harbour at last appeared on the horizon, there were many tears of joy shed on that little ship.

"Home at last, gents!" sighed Allan a Dale. "If I never board a ship again for the rest of my life, I'll be happy. Let's hope the Sheriff and Gisborne had as miserable a trip as we did."

John, a considerably thinner man than he had been when he left Acre months before, stood beside Allan and Will, and gazed across the choppy water to the welcome sight of solid ground.

"Aye, let's hope so."

"I can top that wish," said Will. "Let's hope their ship is at the bottom of the sea right now, with both of them in it."

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Below deck, Marian lay in a narrow bed in the tiny cabin that she and Robin shared. They had carved out a space for themselves and their few belongings amidst the boxes and barrels of cargo.

She yawned and sighed gratefully. "Almost home", Robin had told her an hour or two ago. Soon, no more constant and unpleasant rocking to and fro on the little bed. Some good sleep, in a real bed, with Robin by her side, would be more healing to her exhausted body than any medicine.

She looked down at her body, lifting the covers to see the scar running across her abdomen. It would take some getting used to. Robin had seen it. To her relief, far from being horrified by it, he had only held her close and told her she was beautiful. She loved him all the more for it. It felt so good to be his wife now. Finally, after so many years, they were together.

But the closer they sailed to England's shores, the more she worried about their future. As long as Prince John ruled England in his brother's absence, Robin was still an outlaw. She was his wife, but she would have to stay in hiding. Sheriff Vaisey and Gisborne no doubt believed her to be dead. For now, she had to stay dead, for her own safety, and her husband's.

She lay quietly and mulled over all that had happened in the last year, especially the events that led up to the disaster in Acre. _When did things start to go so horribly wrong?_ she thought._ Not when the Sheriff and Guy dragged me off to the Holy Land with them. No, it started long before then, years before._

_I was just eighteen, and Robin twenty-one, when we became engaged. So funny to think of it now. We were so young, and so in love. I adored him—his generosity, his kindness, his mischievous sense of fun. But our happiness was short-lived. Robin insisted on going off to the Crusades to serve under King Richard. He promised to come back to me, but I was so vexed with him. I wanted to be Lady Marian of Locksley. I didn't want to wait. I broke our engagement after we argued for the hundredth time, and we parted angry with each other._

_How long was it? How long was he away? Almost three years, before Vaisey came with orders from Prince John, had my father ousted from the position of Sheriff, and took over Nottingham. What a grim day that was, for all of us. My poor father, he was never the same man again. It broke his heart. He went into seclusion at Knighton Hall. And Robin, no message, no letter from him. I hurt him with my angry words. After three years of silence I didn't know if he was even still alive. I wanted only to forget him._

_Then came that night at the castle, at a banquet for the nobles. I saw a man—tall, broad-shouldered, dark, and so handsome that when he turned and looked my way, my heart stopped. A young knight, just returned from his service in the Crusades. Guy of Gisborne, I soon learned. I recalled his name from a story Robin had told me, of the tragedy from his childhood. Guy's parents had died in a fire in Locksley the same day that Robin's father died. I was only a very little girl when it happened. I remember how it haunted me, the story of that sad, long-ago day, and how Guy's name stayed in my mind._

_Guy was so sweet to me at first, so shy, almost awkward, for a man so battle-hardened and worldy-wise. I was flattered by his attentions, and I fell wildly in love with him. I never tired of just looking at him. I couldn't believe that I had ever cared anything for Robin of Locksley._

_So when did it all change? When did I first realize that something was wrong? Was it when I found out that the new Sheriff had seen his potential and had taken him under his wing? Vaisey, who was fast gaining a reputation as a cruel tyrant who despised the poor and mocked the church. I didn't want Guy to work for him. I told him so. But he told me he had lost his inheritance. It had been taken unjustly from him, or so he said, though he would never give me the details of the story. He had nothing to offer me in marriage, so he chose to work for Vaisey so that he could gain back what he had lost._

_Perhaps it was then that I began to see Guy's other side— the vengefulness in him, the sullen anger, the explosive temper that frightened me so. His lust for power. His willingness to work for a man like Vaisey just to get what he wanted, even if it meant ignoring his conscience and violating his principles._

_He changed, he did, the more time he spent with the Sheriff. He wasn't the man I thought I loved. He started to become someone I feared, and yet pitied, when I saw where his association with Vaisey would lead him. It saddened me, and I tried, oh how I tried, to help him!_

_And then, out of the blue, Robin came back, after almost five years away. I remember how shocked I was to see him, and confused. I was so annoyed with him when he came to my father's house, and acted as though he could just pick up where he left off with me._

_Robin was so cocksure, so full of his own ideals. I warned him to be careful, that he could not just barge in and change everything that he saw as wrong and unjust all in one day. There were strong men in power in Nottingham, men who could take everything from him if he chose to defy them. And he did. He was uncompromising. I loved him for it, but at the same time I was angry with him, for it made him an outlaw, and the sworn enemy of Guy._

_I wanted them to be friends. I wanted Robin to help me get Guy away from the Sheriff. I tried to please both of them, and I ended up caught in the middle of the conflict instead. For a while I couldn't stand either of them._

_But, in time, Robin won my heart again. I saw how much he cared for others, especially the poor and downtrodden. I wanted to help him in his work. And Guy, he went from bad to worse. So I played a dangerous game as Robin's spy in the castle, even after I agreed to marry Guy to protect myself and my father from the Sheriff._

_Thank heaven I didn't go through with it. When I learned, right at the altar, that Guy had lied to me about his involvement with the Black Knights, and his earlier attempt on the life of the king, I knew I could never marry him. Funny, too, because in all other respects he had always been honest with me. It wasn't like him to lie._

_That move cost me, oh, it did, very dearly. My father and I lost our freedom and our home when Guy burned it to the ground in revenge for the way I humiliated him. How I hated him for it! But I felt sorry later, to have hurt him so._

_But for Robin's sake, I kept on playing the game. I deceived Guy, over and over, to protect Robin and his men. I walked that thin line between his mistrust and his renewed desire for me. So many times I was nearly caught. I should never have tried. It was too dangerous. I underestimated Guy. I thought I could control him and toy with him all I wanted, but I was wrong. He said he loved me, but he loved power more than me. His first loyalty was to Vaisey, and to himself._

_After I tried and failed to kill the Sheriff, and instead he kidnapped me and took me with him and Guy on their mission to the Holy Land to try to assassinate King Richard, I was so frightened. Guy had changed into someone I no longer knew. When they told me Robin was dead, I believed them. I made one last appeal to Guy—kill the Sheriff, and I will help you. I'll get you a pardon from the king. You'll have what you want—lands, power, wealth, your title as Sir Guy. Do this, and I will marry you. At the time I meant it. With Robin dead, my heart died, too. Guy was all I had left. I thought that if I could convince him to kill the Sheriff, I could change him back into the better man I had once loved._

_But in the end I failed. He marched on blindly down his path of self-destruction, on the heels of Sheriff Vaisey. He threw away everything he had been, and everything he might have become, with both hands._

_I wish I could hate him for it. It would make it so much easier if I could just hate him. But I can't. I loved him too much to hate him now. I pity him, I grieve for him, for the man he could have been, a noble, good, brave man. Like Robin. Only the forlorn ghost of such a man left in him now. Vaisey destroyed that good man, and Guy let him do it. I tried to save him, and it nearly cost me my life, and the lives of the ones I dearly love. I have to stop trying to save him._

_Robin wants him dead. I know he does. I see it. They hate each other, Robin and Guy, and always have. Two men who were boys in the same village, who might have grown up to be the best of friends. How did it come to this terrible place instead? Robin's wife or not, I'm still caught in the middle. I love Robin, but I can't hate Guy. I can only mourn his loss._

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Robin came into the cramped little cabin, and thinking she was asleep, shook her gently.

"Time to wake up, love," he whispered. "We're almost at the dock."

She opened her eyes. "I'm awake, darling. I was just thinking."

"About what?"

She smiled. "Oh, just how happy I am that I married you."

He bent and kissed her. "Me, too."

"Are you still taking me to Matilda's?" she asked him as she watched him pack their few belongings in a trunk.

"Yes. You'll be safe there. After her trouble with the Sheriff, she left her old house and built a new cottage. It's well-hidden, deep in Sherwood Forest. It's almost as hard to find as our camp."

"I wonder what the camp looks like now? We've been away for so many months. Almost a year."

"It'll need cleaning up, I'm sure. Much's kitchen has probably been destroyed by any number of furry marauders by now."

They both laughed, but then Marian was serious again.

"What about you, Robin?"

"I'll be with you as much as I can."

She saw his smile fade, and caught the brooding expression on his face, one she had seen more and more, the closer they got to home.

"Robin, come, be honest with me. What are your intentions when we get back? Don't shut me out of this, tell me."

He was silent.

"Don't do it. I don't want you to—"

"You know what I have to do when we get home, and why. I can't touch Vaisey because of his pact with the prince, but—"

"Guy? Robin, no."

"Don't defend him, Marian."

"I'm not. I just don't want you to go after him. It's not worth it, love. You might be hurt, or worse."

"You don't care that Gisborne was there when Vaisey tried to kill you, and he did nothing to stop him? Isn't that what happened?"

"I don't know. I can't remember. It's all so mixed up in my head now."

"Well, I was there, and I remember."

She shook her head sadly. "I don't want you to go after him. The only thing I want, Robin, is never to see him again."

He muttered under his breath, so softly that she almost didn't hear him, "When I get through with him, you won't."


	3. Chapter 3 Revenge Gone Wrong

REVENGE GONE WRONG

"Do you know what I have in my hand, Gisborne? Hmm, can you guess? I'll tell you. It's a letter, delivered just this morning by our charming friend Sir Jasper. A letter from Prince John. Do you not want to know what he has to say?"

Guy did not deign to reply.

"Well, I'll tell you anyway. He's very disappointed at our failure in the Holy Land, no surprise there. And seriously ticked off about the disbanding of the Black Knights. In recompense, he demands—not asks, demands—that the head of Robin Hood be delivered to him immediately. Oh, and he's also levied an increase in the monthly tribute to compensate him for his financial losses and his disappointment."

"How much?"

"A paltry sum, really. Only a thousand crowns a month."

"What? That can't be right! A thousand—every month?"

"Oh, but it is," said Sheriff Vaisey, shoving the letter under Guy's nose. "It's all right here."

"But, we can't come up with that much. He's asking the impossible."

"Well, la-dee-da-dee-da, Gisborne! Tell me something I don't already know! What I need are solutions, not a statement of the bleeding obvious."

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know, but something has to be done, and soon. He wants his first payment by the end of the month, and no later, or he's coming to Nottingham to deal with the situation himself. You know what that means, don't you? It means Robin Hood won't be the only one losing his head."

The Sheriff paced the floor moodily.

"Robin Hood. Yes, if the prince had him, maybe, just maybe that would satisfy him for a while, placate him, buy us a little time—"

He stopped and turned on Guy, who was slouched disconsolately at the table.

"Gisborne, are you paying any attention at all to what I'm saying?"

"Yes, of course, my lord."

He bent closer until his face was inches from that of his lieutenant. The steel blue eyes that looked back at him were bloodshot and unfocused.

"If you've been listening, then why are you still sitting here?"

"Sir?"

"I shouldn't be having to spell this out to you, I really shouldn't. But apparently I do. Where is Robin Hood? What's that? You don't know? Have you even tried to find out? What do you expect? That he's going to dance in here one fine day to inform us that he's back in town?"

He resumed his pacing.

"Gisborne, I ask so little of you, really. An arrest here, a beating there. All fun and entertaining things to keep you busy and amuse us both. And one more easy, tiny little request, to bring in one man. Just one. But have you done it? A clue? No! You've done nothing but drink yourself into oblivion every night since we got back. You have the gall to show up here every morning so drunk you can hardly stand. And over what? A woman! As if there aren't plenty of other women in the world."

Guy gave Vaisey such a look that the man should have dropped dead on the spot. Fortunately for both of them, Vaisey didn't see it.

"Grow up, Gisborne. I did you a favour, and you'll thank me for it someday. Lady Marian was too much of a distraction. And she was dangerous, we both know that. She betrayed you, with Hood no less! And laughed up her sleeve at you while she was doing it. Or have you, in your wine-soaked sentimentality, forgotten that unpleasant little fact?"

No, he hadn't, but neither had he forgotten who it was that had killed her.

"Gisborne, I'm not going to say this again. Get up off your lazy backside, sober up, and go out and find Hood, before I decide once and for all that you are replaceable!"

Guy, habitually obedient to the Sheriff, though he was burning inside with rage and humiliation, pulled himself up from the chair and made his way unsteadily toward the door.

"And for God's sake, take a bath and change your clothes!" Vaisey called after him. "You stink to high heaven!"

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Robin raced down the path through Sherwood that led to Locksley Village, armed with his bow and a sword. Allan, Little John, and Much pursued him doggedly. He halted and turned about to face them, so abruptly that they collided with one another.

"Stop following me, I mean it!"

"Robin, no! Come on, you're tired, we're all tired. We've been traveling for months!" panted Allan.

"Yes, and I've had time to think. Get out of my way, all of you, and stop hindering me!"

"Robin, do not do this!" John slammed the end of his cudgel on the ground. "You need to think of Marian!"

"I am thinking of her, John, and what she has suffered. I can't do anything about that bastard Vaisey. The king will deal with him. But I can do something about Gisborne."

"What are you going to do, Robin? Whatever it is, you can't do this alone!" pleaded Much. "Let us go with you!"

"No, just stay back!"

"He didn't do it, Robin," argued Allan. "Guy didn't hurt Marian, it was Vaisey that did it."

"Sticking up for him, eh, Allan? Still loyal to your buddy? What are you going to do, rat me out again?"

"That's a bit harsh! You know I'm not with Gisborne any more. I'm back with the gang now, I'm one of the lads again."

"Are you?"

"Aw, come on, you know I am!"

"Gisborne tried to kill the king, and not for the first time. He's a traitor to King Richard, to our country! And he was with Vaisey when Marian was nearly killed. He didn't stop him, did he? That's enough for me! He deserves what I'm going to do!"

He held his sword in front of him, and pointed it at each of them in turn.

"Don't any of you follow me, I mean it. Don't try to stop me! I'm going to find Gisborne. This is between him and me now. He dies today!"

He turned, and disappeared around a corner and into the woods. Allan, John, and Much looked at each other.

"I was afraid of this," said John. "Robin's been very quiet since we got back. Too quiet. Not like him. I had an idea he was planning something."

"What should we do?" asked Much anxiously.

"We've got to let him," said John with a heavy sigh. "It's his right. And Marian's."

"John? What if—"

"Let's go back to the camp. It's out of our hands now, lads. There's nothing more we can do."

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Robin fitted an arrow to his bow as he entered Locksley Village. It was early morning. The villagers were going about their morning chores. The little circle of thatched-roofed houses and workman's shops was exactly as Robin remembered. How long it had been since he had walked down the dusty little path that led to Locksley Manor! Many months, but it felt like decades. His home, where he should have been living peacefully with Marian, had another inhabitant now, Guy of Gisborne, the man who had stolen that home, and who had tried to take Marian from him as well. The man who had robbed him of his freedom, and would gladly take his life if given the chance. Robin had no intention of giving him that chance.

A number of the villagers gathered when they saw Robin. He glanced briefly at them, and heard their astonished whispers.

"Is that Robin? It is!"

"He's back! But where are his men? Why is he alone?"

"Is Sir Guy in the house?"

"Yes, I think so. Is he after him, do you suppose?"

"Don't know, but I'd stay back if I were you. He looks angry."

And Robin was angry, more than angry. His heart filled with a cold and bitter fury as he looked upon his former home, and spotted the Sheriff's banner hoisted brazenly on the rooftop. He lifted his bow, aimed, and shot through the open second-story window of the manor.

"Gisborne!" His shout rang out through the still air.

Guy, lying in Robin's bed, stared up at the arrow, still vibrating, buried in the thick wooden headboard. Robin's arrow. It had missed him by inches.

"He's here, at last. Good. What I've been waiting for. Time to pay him back."

He jumped out of bed and took the stairs two at a time. In the hall he snatched his sword from its sheath. Flinging open the door, he stepped out, blinking in the bright sunshine.

Robin faced him, not ten yards away, with a drawn sword. For a few seconds they stared into each other's eyes. Then, with a bellow of rage, Guy lunged toward him.

Robin met his blow with one of his own that sent Guy staggering back. They circled, and swung savagely again and again. Sword clashed against sword, but neither man would give way. Hatred for one another burned in their hearts, and they both knew it was a fight to the death.

The villagers gathered to watch as the battle raged all over Locksley. Two guards that had been with their master in the house moved to help Gisborne, but he ordered them back. They had no choice but to join with the others and watch.

Remorseless, with a ferocity that matched their hate, the combatants slashed at each other. But Robin was well-rested and well-fed, strong, and determined to end Gisborne's life. His opponent, though the better swordsman, was already exhausted. Lack of sleep, months of heavy drinking, sorrow—all had taken their toll, and he soon realized he was no match for Robin.

He turned and ran toward the hill to the north of Locksley, hoping for a moment's respite to recover his strength. Robin pursued him relentlessly. A few villagers started to follow them, but most fled back to their homes, so that in the end, only a handful were there to witness the climax of the fiercest and most desperate battle Locksley had ever seen.

Guy reached the top of the hill, only to find his escape blocked. The path ended abruptly, with a sheer drop of several yards into the fast-running river below. He was no swimmer. Cornered, he whirled about to face Robin.

"The time's come for you to pay for what you've done, Gisborne! You tried to kill the king. You're a traitor and a liar! Did you really think that I was going to let you get away with it? You've seen your last day of life!"

But Guy swept the king aside with a furious slash of his sword. "King Richard be damned!" he shouted back at Robin. "This isn't about him, Hood! This is about Marian. She's dead because of you!"

Robin hesitated, and lowered his sword. He looked into Guy's face. For a brief instant he saw past the implacable hate, to the depth of the man's grief and anguish. He knew for a certainty now that Guy believed her to be dead. But he remembered Marian's own suffering, and hardened his heart against pity.

"You couldn't have her, she didn't love you!"

"She should have been mine! You took her from me! And it's your fault that she's dead!"

"She was to be my wife!"

"No, no, that's not true. No!" He threw himself at Robin with all his might.

Robin, caught unawares, and overpowered by the sheer size of the man, fell under him. His sword clattered out of reach. They rolled over twice, each trying to pin the other. Robin had half a second to apprehend that he had, in all likelihood, underestimated his foe, before Guy grabbed him by his shoulders and slammed him down, to strike the back of his head on a rock.

Dazed, the sky sparkling in his eyes, Robin was only dimly conscious of Guy bent over him as the man tore the tag from his neck.

"Time for you to die, Hood!"

The world swirled crazily around him. His limbs dangled uselessly, and he could only groan, as he felt himself lifted up and slung like a sack of meal over Guy's broad shoulder. A shove, a fall into nothingness, the chilling sound of Gisborne's shout of triumph swallowed up by the roar of the river, and then darkness.

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"What if we're too late?" groaned Much, as he and Allan and John ran toward Locksley Village.

"Are we sure Robin would go to Locksley first?" asked Allan.

"Of course, Allan! Where else?"

"Wouldn't he be more likely to find him at the castle?"

"Let's just get to Locksley," broke in John, "and then search from there."

"Yeah, and hope Gisborne isn't there with a whole troop of guards waiting for us. Not trying to be funny, but I thought we had decided not to interfere."

"We changed our minds, didn't we?"

"Should have gone with him in the first place, if you ask me."

They arrived in Locksley, to find the villagers gathered around the little grassy town square. Their faces were sad and troubled, and some were weeping.

"Lads, so glad you're here," said an elderly man named Tom.

"We're trying to find Robin," they told the villagers.

Tom shook his head. "I'm afraid it's too late."

"Gisborne?"

"Robin came here, not half an hour ago, alone, and challenged him. There was a terrible fight. They went up to the top of Locksley Hill, near the river. Me and a few others were there. We saw what happened."

"Go on."

"Gisborne, he, he hit Robin's head on a rock, and—threw him over the cliff into the river."

"No!"

"We don't know where Robin is now. The river took him. Don't want to tell you lads, but it doesn't look like he survived."

"What about Gisborne? Where is he?"

"Gone. Back to Sheriff Vaisey, most likely."

"We've got to find Robin!" cried Much. "Come on John, Allan! Maybe he's not dead. He can't be!"

Much started to sob.

"Calm down, Much. We'll find him," said John.

"What are we going to do about Gisborne?"

"We'll deal with him later. He's not going anywhere. Right now we need to find out if Robin is still alive."

Some of the village men offered to help in the search, but John told them no, in case Gisborne returned. The three outlaws sprinted up the hill toward the river. They searched for a way down the steep cliff for some time before finding a path to the river below. Then they spread out and started to scour the riverbanks for any sign of Robin.

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"Prince John grows ever more impatient, Vaisey. He's tired of excuses. Robin Hood has become a significant pain in the princely backside. I suggest, strongly, that you not try his patience any further."

Vaisey's head was beginning to throb. Sir Jasper, the preening ninny, in his castle again like an omen of doom. There to collect the prince's tribute, and Robin's head, neither of which the Sheriff could deliver. And Gisborne, where was he? In search of Hood, or passed out drunk in his room again? Not that it mattered. He was useless either way.

The heavy tread of Guy's tall leather boots, and the click of his spurs on the floor as he entered the room, irritated Vaisey even more. The man made more infernal noise—

"Ah, Gisborne," said Jasper, leaning back in his chair. "Always a pleasure. The Sheriff and I were just talking about you, among other things. I assume you know why I'm here."

Guy, never one to exchange pleasantries, did not answer, at least not in words. What he did was to throw Robin's tag on the table in front of the Sheriff.

"You don't need to worry about Hood anymore."

Vaisey stared at the necklace, picked it up, and cried, "Oh, Gisborne!"

"What's this?" asked Sir Jasper, taking the necklace from Vaisey. He looked it over, shrugged, and gave it back to Vaisey.

"I took it from Hood," answered Guy, slowly, relishing the words, "just before I killed him. He's dead, by these hands!"

"Gisborne!" shouted the Sheriff. "This is a happy day! The outlaw is no more! Robin Hood, dead! Rejoice, rejoice! Ring the bells, we must celebrate!"

"So you say," Sir Jasper said to Guy with a sneer. Then he turned to Vaisey.

"Sorry to nitpick, but haven't we been down this road before? Shouldn't we hold off celebrations until we have proof?"

"What do you mean?" Vaisey shook the tag at Jasper. "We have proof right here!"

"Proof? That? No, I need real proof, to take back to Prince John. For instance, where's the body?"

Vaisey looked questioningly at Guy. "Well?"

The only thing he received back was a blank stare, which told him, and Jasper, everything.

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Several hours later, tired and discouraged, the outlaws met again, just below the cliff face where they had begun their search.

"I think he's gone," said John. "No sign of him anywhere."

"No! No, I won't give up!" exclaimed Much. "If he were really dead, I'd know it. I'd feel it!"

"Much, we're not giving up, not yet, but we've got to consider the possibility that he might not—"

Much would not hear him. "No, he's alive, I know he is!"

"Oh, oh, looks like we've got company," said Allan, pointing toward the trees at the top of the cliff face.

"Gisborne," muttered John, "and some recruits from the castle. Looking for the body. I suggest we clear out."

"We can't give up now," Much argued.

"Much, there's nothing more we can do right now. If we stay here we'll be caught."

"And what about Robin? What if they find him first?"

"Then he's already dead. We need to think of the living now. We'll be of no use to anyone if Gisborne catches us."

"Marian! Who's going to tell her?"

"I don't think I can do it, can you?"

"Until we know for sure, we won't tell her anything. Come on, let's get out of here before Gisborne's men find us."


	4. Chapter 4 Brother Tuck Makes a Plan

BROTHER TUCK MAKES A PLAN

Three miles down river, where the rapids slowed to a gentle flow, a man in the long brown robes of a monk waded through the water to a fallen log wedged between some rocks. He had seen something that wasn't a branch.

He bent down to disentangle the body of a young man from the debris. Hoisting the limp figure over his shoulder, he carried him to a dry place in the woods beyond, and laid him down. He felt his neck and put his head down on the man's chest.

"Come on, Robin," he said, as he turned him on his side. "I haven't come all this way to have you die on me. Come on, breathe!"

He shook Robin gently, then more roughly. Suddenly, Robin sputtered and choked. Water gushed from his mouth, and he coughed.

"That's right, get it out. You can do this!"

Robin began to cough violently.

"Easy, easy!" said the man. "There, that's better. Open your eyes. Can you hear me?"

Robin's eyes fluttered open, and stared uncomprehendingly at the figure kneeling over him.

"No, you're not in heaven, Robin. Not yet. I'm Brother Tuck. King Richard sent me to find you. When you're better, we'll talk. But right now, you've got a dislocated shoulder I've got to set right. I'll do it now, before you wake up any more."

He did, and had to clamp his hand over Robin's mouth to stifle the scream that rent the air.

"Sorry, but we don't want your friend Gisborne coming down this way, do we? Proves one thing, though—there's some life in you yet. There's a cave not far from here. I'm going to take you there and look after you."

Tuck laid Robin on a blanket inside the cave, and soon had a small fire going near the entrance. He pulled off Robin's wet clothes and covered him with another blanket. By this time Robin was moaning and shivering. He carried him closer to the fire and rubbed him down with the blanket. He checked the man's other injuries. A few bruises, scrapes, a swollen knee. A deep gash on the back of his head. Tuck cleaned the wound and bandaged it. When Robin quieted down, he set about preparing a meal from the supplies in his pack. He was stirring a small pot of soup when he heard the sound of voices coming in their direction.

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Guy had ordered his men to spread out and search the riverbank carefully. There was no telling how far Hood might have drifted downstream. It was late afternoon already, and no sign of the outlaw. His temper had reached the breaking point.

"Where are you?" he shouted across the river. He slashed at the bushes in his path in frustration, and then spun about, sword raised, as he heard a voice from behind him.

"Are you looking for something?"

A broad, dark-skinned man in the brown robes and hood of a monk stood there, seemingly having appeared out of nowhere.

Guy held his sword in front of him. "Who are you? What are you doing here?" he demanded in a harsh voice.

"A man of God, traveling north, searching for shelter wherever I can find it. You're Sir Guy of Gisborne, aren't you?"

Guy stared at him warily. Tuck took in his appearance—long, unkempt hair falling in his face, disheveled clothing, and fierce, feral eyes. He reminded Tuck of a wolf, a lean, ravening, black wolf. Dangerous and unpredictable. The man's reputation, Tuck decided, was well-deserved. He would need to tread carefully.

"I must congratulate you. I heard you struck a great blow today in the fight against lawlessness," he said. "You must be very happy to have brought Robin Hood to justice."

Guy lowered his sword. He was not a particularly religious man, yet he had a certain respect for, and trust of, those in religious orders. The man before him posed no threat that he could detect.

"You seem troubled, my friend," Tuck added.

Guy gazed around at the darkening woods before turning back to the monk.

"Have you seen a body, in the river?"

"No," answered Tuck, surprised within himself at the ease with which he lied to the man. "I've seen no body. Perhaps the river has taken it."

"Maybe."

"May I offer you a meal, a simple supper, to strengthen you in your search? Or a confession, to help ease whatever disturbs your mind?"

He reached out his hand, but Guy flinched away from him. He fixed Tuck with a dark glower.

"I need to find him, that's what I need to do! That will ease my mind. I won't stop until he is found!"

He re-sheathed his sword, turned away, and headed back up the river.

"If I find him, Sir Guy, I'll send you word," Tuck called after him. He smiled as he watched the man disappear into the woods. He patted his sword, hidden under his loose robes. Close call.

Now, he thought, to get Robin back on his feet, and soon. England needs him.

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Tuck returned to the cave. He checked on Robin, and found him still asleep. He sat down near the fire to stir his soup. The woods outside grew dark. He went to Robin and shook him gently.

"Come on, time to eat."

Robin slowly opened his eyes. "Who are you?"

"I introduced myself earlier, but I suppose you wouldn't remember," Tuck said with a smile as he ladled out a bowl for Robin. "I'm Brother Tuck."

"Did I kill him?"

"Gisborne? No. He nearly killed you, however. You've got a pretty big bump on the head, so it's no surprise you're confused and can't remember."

Robin attempted to get up. "Where is he? I have to find him, finish this business—"

"Hold on," said Tuck, settling his patient back on the blanket. "You're not going anywhere. You're hurt. If you go after him now, you're the only one who will be finished."

"I have to kill him!" Robin continued stubbornly.

"If you don't sit still, I'll be forced to tie you up. Now, eat this. You need your strength."

"I've got strength enough."

"Robin, eat, and then we'll talk."

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"King Richard?"

"Yes. He sent me to find you and offer you my help. I can tell by your face that you don't believe me. Here's the letter from him to you."

Robin opened the seal, the king's own seal. He read it.

"He wants me to keep up the fight, and wait for him. He says he's coming as soon as possible to deal with his brother, and Vaisey. I presume that includes Gisborne."

He folded the letter, and shook his head. "Tuck, I can't do this."

"What do you mean, Robin? King Richard has every confidence in you, I know he does."

"I've given everything I can to this cause. I almost lost Marian, my wife, in the Holy Land, because of Vaisey and Gisborne. She's still very weak. My men were in great danger, and they are here, too. We're all outlaws with a price on our heads. I can't touch the Sheriff because of his pact with Prince John. I tried to kill Gisborne today, and he almost killed me. Tuck, I'm tired. I hurt so bad right now I doubt I could string my bow, let alone shoot."

"You're hurt, Robin, I know, but it will pass. You'll recover, and soon. When you get your strength back—"

"No, Tuck. I'm too tired to keep up this fight. I want peace. I just want to take Marian away from here, somewhere safe, where we can live our lives in peace."

"What about the people of Nottingham, Robin? The people of Locksley, of Clun, of Nettlestone? They need you. You're their hero. You know, when I left this country years ago, the people I saw here were proud, happy, full of life. I come back to find them downtrodden, hopeless, their spirits broken. Except for one thing, one name on their lips that gives them hope—Robin Hood."

"Well, maybe that name doesn't mean anything now, Tuck, because I'm finished with it. I can't help them. Nothing I've done has made any real difference, let's face it. They're still living under a tyrant, still starved and taxed and beaten."

"You can't give up, Robin. When you're better—"

"No, Tuck. I've made up my mind. When I'm better, I'm taking Marian and leaving this place."

Tuck sat tending the fire after Robin finished his meal and dozed off. The man, he realized, was wounded now in more than body. His confidence was gone, his faith in himself shattered. _Something has to be done to shake him out of this apathy_, thought Tuck,_ and soon, before it gets rooted any deeper in his heart._

A plan came to him as he watched the sleeping Robin._ God forgive me,_ he thought, _for what I'm going to do. I just hope it works, or we're all sunk._

He went to Robin and spoke to him. Robin rolled over and opened his eyes.

"Robin, rest here. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Where are you going?"

"Just rest. I need your promise that you'll stay here until I get back."

He nodded. "But where are you going?"

Tuck disappeared into the darkness outside without another word.

_He'd better not be going to see the Sheriff, or Gisborne,_ thought Robin._ He's very mysterious, King Richard's messenger or not, and I don't like mysteries._

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Tuck trotted through the woods at a swift pace, straining his eyes in the darkness as he looked for the landmarks that would lead him to the outlaw camp. It was deeper in Sherwood that he thought. Several hours passed before he found it. He approached quietly, but the outlaws were alert. Soon he found himself confronted by three men. One carried a torch, the other two stood with drawn knives and bows at the ready.

"Who are you?"

"A tall, dark stranger?" He smiled at his own wit.

"Very funny, wise-mouth! Now answer the question!" shot back a burly giant._ Little John_, thought Tuck.

The men moved in closer. Tuck raised his hands.

"I'm Brother Tuck," he told them. "Here on business from King Richard."

"King Richard?" asked another, a wide-eyed, intense young man wearing a headscarf.

"Yes. He sent me to help your leader, Robin Hood. Which one of you is Much? You? So you would recognize the king's own seal."

He handed the man the letter from the king.

"It's the king's seal, all right," Much told the other men. "I'd know it anywhere."

"Robin is gone," Little John said. "He fought with Gisborne, early this morning. We searched the river beyond Locksley but couldn't find him. We fear he's—"

"Dead?" interjected Tuck. "There I can reassure you all. Robin isn't dead. I've just come from him. He's hurt, but he'll be fine. He's sorry for the things he said to you."

"What? Robin, alive?" The men's faces were astonished and overjoyed.

"I told you, didn't I?" Much said to the others. "He's not dead, I knew it!"

"Hang on!" cut in the third man. He had close-cropped dark blonde hair and brilliant blue eyes, and a face that seemed made for laughter. But now he stepped close to Tuck, with his chin stuck out belligerently. _Allan a Dale_, thought Tuck.

"Why should we trust you? Maybe you're from the Sheriff, trying to trick us! What's your game, eh?"

Tuck noticed the others give him a long look, which flustered him into silence. He moved back, and lowered his head. _Yes, must be Allan. The one who turned traitor for a while._

"I'm not from the Sheriff," said Tuck. "I've been looking after Robin."

"Where is he? We need to see him."

"You will, tomorrow. He'll meet you at Deadman's Crossing, at noon. He's sorry for what he said to you. Don't worry, he'll explain everything then."

Tuck slipped away before Robin's men could ask him any more questions._ So far, so good. Now for the difficult, and more dangerous, part of my plan_, he thought. He turned in the direction of Locksley Manor, to find Sir Guy of Gisborne.

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"What is it that haunts you, my son? Is it because there are still outlaws on the loose in Sherwood?"

Tuck sat across from Guy, whose hand clenched a goblet of wine. The morning sun streamed in through the windows, but Guy had not slept, to all appearances. He looked exhausted, and a little drunk.

"No," Guy said. "Without Hood, they're lost. It's only a matter of time before they are caught."

"Then what is it that upsets you?"

"Fear," Guy replied, his eyes downcast. "The fear that my enemy isn't dead. I searched all day yesterday and couldn't find him. He might have survived. He might be out there, watching me, waiting...How can I get some peace?"

"There I can reassure you," said Tuck. "Robin was buried last night, in secret, by his men."

"He's dead?"

"Yes. And his men will be meeting at Deadman's Crossing today at noon. You have a chance to bring them in, Sir Guy."

Guy stood up abruptly, setting the wine goblet down with a bang. He stared at Tuck.

"Thank you."

Tuck bowed his head. "Only too happy to assist in the fight against lawlessness."

Guy moved toward the door, but then swung about, drew his sword, and seized Tuck by the shoulder. Tuck was a big man, but Gisborne's strength was terrifying. He shoved Tuck against the wall and held the sword to his throat. His eyes gleamed with a dark and savage fire.

"If you've lied to me, you'll die!"

Guy released him, and strode from the room, slamming the manor's front door behind him. Tuck took a deep breath and rubbed his shoulder, which ached from the man's powerful grip.

_Now_, he thought,_ to the crossing to watch it all play out. And hope my plan doesn't go terribly wrong._

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"I don't like this," complained Allan. "Something doesn't feel right."

He, Much, and Little John walked down the path through Sherwood to the crossing. It was close to noon. The sun shone through the trees overhead. Djaq and Will had stayed behind at Matilda's cottage to look after Marian. They had all agreed to say nothing to her of Robin's fate until he was back with them and they were certain he was okay.

"Robin's alive!" said Much, confidently marching ahead of the other two, and quite deaf to Allan's forebodings. "He'll be back with us soon!"

"You mark my words," Allan persisted. "Something's strange here. I don't trust this Tuck character."

"Allan, enough!" grunted John. "Come on, we're almost there."

They reached the crossing a few minutes later. At first they saw no one. Then, a few yards down the path leading toward Clun, they saw a man, his back turned to them, wearing a hooded black cloak.

"Robin?" said Much, in a low and uncertain voice.

The man turned around, flung off the cape, and opened his arms wide in a mocking gesture of welcome. It was Gisborne. All three outlaws took a startled step backward.

"I'm here to pay my respects to Robin Hood!" Gisborne announced. He put his hand on his chest and gave them a bow. "Hope you don't mind."

He motioned to the guards waiting behind the trees. "Arrest them!"

Before they could mouth a word of protest, John, Much, and Allan were bound and dragged off to Nottingham Castle.

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"I have them, my lord," Guy reported to the Sheriff. "The rest of Robin Hood's men."

"Where are they?"

"In the dungeon."

"Good. Excellent work, Gisborne. I'll pay them a little visit later. Right now we have another job to do. Sir Jasper will be back here tomorrow to view Hood's corpse and collect Prince John's money."

"My lord, I'll keep looking—"

"No, never mind that. Send down a few guards to the river to keep searching. If all else fails we'll send along Robin's tag as proof and hope it's enough. Or, even better, we'll send one of those outlaws back with Jasper, after we hang the lot of them tomorrow. Prince John has never seen Hood—he won't know the difference. What I need you to do is collect that thousand crowns of tribute for me, and have the full amount back here by nightfall."

"How?"

"I don't care how! Do I have to think of everything, Gisborne? Use your imagination! Round up your best soldiers. Go through Nottingham and all the villages. Take everything those filthy peasants own, take the gold right out of their mouths if you have to, but get me that money!"

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"This is your fault, both of you," moaned Allan, as leaned on the bars of his cell. "I knew we shouldn't have trusted that monk. You know, this wouldn't have happened if you two had listened to me in the first place. But does anyone listen to me? No! So here we are."

"How were we supposed to know?" exclaimed Much. "That letter Brother Tuck had, it was sealed with the king's seal."

"What does that prove? He could have stolen it."

"Whatever, Allan. Doesn't matter now. We're stuck. I don't suppose you could sweet-talk Gisborne into letting us out, could you? You and he were such pals, after all."

"Aw, nice. Thanks, Much. You're never going to let go of that one, are you? Come on, I said I was sorry, al'right. How many more times are you gonna make me say it? I'm here with you now, aren't I?"

"Yeah, for all the good it'll do any of us. We'll all be dead tomorrow, unless you can come up with some plan to get us out."

"You want clever, or really clever?"

"Very funny."

"Well, what do you want me to do? Robin was always the man with the plan, wasn't he? And it's not like me and Gisborne are on speaking terms anymore."

"That you ever were—unbelievable!"

"Shut up, t'both of you!" grumbled Little John. "Arguing like a couple of schoolboys. Be quiet and try to think of some way of getting out of here."

They heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and looked out of the cell door to see the Sheriff and two guards coming toward them.

"Great," Much said glumly. "Just when you think it can't get any worse."

Sheriff Vaisey was all smiles as he walked up to the cell doors.

"Good evening, gentlemen," he addressed them. "I trust you have everything you need to make your stay comfortable."

Much looked away, and John fixed the Sheriff with a baleful eye. Neither one answered Vaisey. Allan was not to be outdone, however.

"We seemed to have missed out on the welcoming pitcher of mead," he informed the Sheriff.

"Ha, very good. Well, Allan, here you are, back with your old friends again, for your last night on earth. How appropriate."

He turned to the others. "Now, just to keep you up to speed on my schedule, tomorrow, at midday, the people of Nottingham will witness the final end of Robin Hood's gang of thieves and criminals. It promises to be quite an event, so I hope you won't disappoint the spectators."

"Oh, I do like a good execution," remarked Allan drily.

"Excellent. Any questions before I leave you to enjoy your last evening together?"

"Yeah. When are you serving dinner?" Allan asked.

The Sheriff smiled pleasantly and rubbed his hands together. "Very good. If you're this cheery tomorrow it should be great fun."

He and his guards walked back out through the prison doors, leaving the three outlaws to spend a long night alternately grieving the feared and now almost certain loss of Robin, and the anticipated loss of their own lives.

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"I've just gotten word, Robin. Gisborne and his thugs went into all the villages, and throughout Nottingham, collecting the prince's tribute money at the points of their swords. They stripped practically every house of its valuables. And Gisborne has also captured your friends," Tuck told him. "They are to be executed tomorrow."

Robin looked down with a grimace and a shake of his head.

"What should I do? What can I do?"

"Look into your heart, Robin. You'll find the answer."

Robin sighed heavily, and turned and walked away, into the woods. Tuck watched him go. A short time later, he came back, and stood near the fire.

"They're my men, Tuck," he said quietly. "They would give their lives for me. Can I do any less?"

He sat down beside Tuck. "And you're right. I can't just turn my back on people. I've got to help them."

"I'm glad to hear it, Robin. What are you going to do?"

"First of all, I've got to rescue my men."

"Do you have a plan?"

"Not yet. Getting into Nottingham is easy enough. It's getting my gang out safely again that's the real trick. Any suggestions?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. But I think we should meet up with the rest of your gang first. Where are they, at the camp?"

"Either there or with Marian."

"Where's Marian?"

"In hiding. She's with a woman named Matilda. She was my nurse when I was a child, but now she's in hiding, too. A run-in with Vaisey a couple of years ago. It's a long story. Will and Djaq have been there with her at Matilda's cottage most of the time, looking after her."

"You named only two, other than Marian."

Robin smiled and shrugged. "I'm afraid that's it, Tuck. That's my whole gang, unless you plan on joining us. That's all the men I have. Actually, Djaq's a woman, Will's wife, in fact, but she's as good as any man in a fight."

"If my plan works, Robin, none of you will need to do much fighting. And I am going to join you."

Tuck picked up a stick and began sketching in the dirt.

"Here's my idea. If it works, it will get your men out, give you the chance to return that stolen money to the people, and kick Vaisey's sorry butt at the same time."

"Sounds great. What's the plan?"

"It involves greed."

"Greed?"

"Yes. A common enough human failing, and one we can use to our advantage. We're going to create an irresistible diversion."

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At Locksley Manor, Guy slept uneasily. Though he had no reason to think the monk named Tuck had lied to him, he felt a vague anxiety. There was no body to deliver, only the man's word that the outlaw was dead. He was not at all certain that Sir Jasper would accept this as sufficient proof to present to Prince John.

Then there was the problem of Allan a Dale. They had worked together for many months prior to the failed mission in the Holy Land. Allan was the closest thing he'd had to a friend since childhood, and he had grown quite fond of the man during their partnership. Now, to have to arrest Allan, and watch his execution, disturbed him more than he would have imagined.

Deeper down, where he didn't want to go, was a feeling of shame in regards to Robin. Robin had been injured, barely conscious, when he had thrown him off the cliff. Something in Guy, some remaining shred of honour, told him that what he had done was dishonourable and cowardly. He thought of Marian, and how she would have viewed his actions. She had always urged him to be a better man, to get away from Vaisey, to do the right thing. He knew he should have listened to her, but he hadn't, and now she was dead. Because of Vaisey, and because of him.

And Robin. Yes, it had been Robin's doing. If he hadn't been mixed up with Marian, she would still be alive, and his wife by now. Lady Gisborne.

Guy rolled over, pulled the blanket over his head, and crushed out the remains of his troublesome conscience. Robin was dead, and soon the last of his gang would be, too. The sooner the better. He'd had far too many sleepless nights as of late.


	5. Chapter 5 Vaisey Eats Humble Pie

VAISEY EATS HUMBLE PIE, AND

GISBORNE GETS A SPINE

The crowd that began to gather in the central square of Nottingham early the next morning swelled to many more by noon. Some were simply curious to get a last look at Robin Hood's famous gang of outlaws, but many others were distressed and saddened by the reported death of Robin, and the looming execution of the remainder of his men. Deep and long-standing fear of the Sheriff, however, kept any of them from attempting to put a halt to the proceedings.

The Sheriff, flanked by Gisborne and Sir Jasper, came out of the castle and stood on the steps, beaming happily, as the three outlaws were led to the scaffold.

"People of Nottingham," he announced in a booming voice, "this is a glorious day! It will go down in the history of our great country, as it will mark the final passing of Robin Hood's reign of terror. To celebrate his extinction, we shall now execute his rabble."

"Get them ready," he said to the executioner. "Oh, and no hoods. I want to see their faces."

The executioner slipped the nooses over the heads of the men, and stepped away to await the Sheriff's word. The outlaws looked at each other with sad and hopeless eyes.

"I guess this is goodbye, my friends," said Much in a trembling voice. "Robin must be dead, or he'd have been here to save us."

"I reckon wherever he is, mates, we're soon going to join him," added Allan.

John said nothing. He was thinking of the wife and son he had lost to another, and how grateful he was that they would never know his final end.

The Sheriff, to intensify the mental anguish of the condemned men, began a lengthy speech about homeland security, obeying the law and the consequences if one did not, and the need to respect Prince John's authority and his own. Sir Jasper frowned impatiently, and Guy rolled his eyes in disgust. Vaisey was in full cry when Tuck stepped forward out of the crowd.

"Wait!" Tuck shouted. He addressed Gisborne. "A last prayer, Sir Guy, for these men. We must, no matter how great the crime."

"Who are you, preacher man?" demanded Vaisey.

"He's Brother Tuck," Guy told him. "It's okay, we can trust him. He helped bring these outlaws to justice."

"Sheriff," said Tuck, "'tis sinful to give these men no chance of absolution."

"All right, all right," said Vaisey, "but make it quick!"

Tuck turned toward the outlaws, gave them a wink, and began to pray in Latin. He went on for quite some time, despite Vaisey's orders, all the while glancing up now and again to see if Robin was ready. He was running out of Latin, and beginning to talk gibberish, when the Sheriff, with a grunt of annoyance at the delay of his long-anticipated pleasure, stopped him.

"Enough of the piety!" he growled. "No amount of blah-dee-blah-dee words are going to save their blackened souls."

He gestured to the hangman. "Get on with it! My dinner's waiting."

The hangman stepped forward to kick the stools out from under the prisoners, but before he could, a sudden, startling shower of gold and silver rained down from the top of the walls upon the people in the square. At first there were cries of fear and consternation, but they soon changed to shouts of joy. The whole gathering, from the youngest peasant child to the castle guards, and even the executioner, scrambled to gather up the bounty.

"What?" Vaisey shouted at Guy. "What is this? What's happening?"

Guy could only stare in confusion as he watched the mob greedily grabbing up what appeared to be the entire contents of the chest that was supposed to go to London as Prince John's tribute.

"Gisborne, don't just stand there gaping, do something!"

When Guy did not react, Vaisey howled at the guards.

"Stop them, you idiots!"

But every last one of the guards was on his hands and knees, scooping up coins as fast as he could. So intent were they that none of them noticed the three arrows that flew across the square and hit the ropes slung over the scaffold. The ropes were cut neatly in half, thereby freeing the doomed outlaws. Allan, Much, and John wasted no time in jumping from the platform and disappearing down a back street.

Amid the joyful chaos, Vaisey and Gisborne heard a familiar voice. It came from the top of the wall overlooking the square, and rang out over the gathering.

"Sorry to break up your little party, Sheriff Vaisey, but all good things must come to an end!"

Soon all eyes were looking upwards. There was no mistaking the figure on the top of the wall, silhoutted against the sun, bow in hand.

"Good people of Nottingham, it would seem that reports of my demise have been a bit premature. I come back to you now to help you fight the injustice that chokes this country. We will stand up against tyranny and oppression once again. I give you back the taxes, taken wrongfully from each and every one of you, as a gesture of goodwill, and a promise from me and my men that we will go on fighting the good fight until peace and justice reign here once more!"

"It's Robin Hood!" someone shouted.

"It is!" exclaimed another. "And his men!"

Three more figures appeared beside Robin, and then, from the other side of the square, two more, one of them a Saracen woman.

"No, it can't be!" Guy cried. He stumbled backward in shock, and knocked into Jasper as he did so.

"You said he was dead!" Sir Jasper berated Guy. "He doesn't look dead to me! And, what's this?"

Sir Jasper spotted the two guards, who had been standing alertly by the coach that was to take him back to London. They were lying senseless on the ground. He rushed to the coach and opened the doors.

"The chest, it's empty! They've taken Prince John's money!"

A loud cheer went up from the crowd as Robin bowed gallantly to them, and threw down another sackful of the Sheriff's ill-gotten tribute, while Allan, John, and Much waved tauntingly at the Sheriff and Gisborne.

"Get them, stop them!" screamed the Sheriff, but at the same instant, he was hit by two arrows that passed through his sleeves and pinned him face-forward against the wall.

Guy had only a moment to draw breath and let out an instinctive cry of fear as he saw the bowman fit two more arrows to the string and take aim at him next. The arrows struck and slammed him against the wall, pinning him through his coat at hip and shoulder.

Tuck, having played his part, slipped unnoticed through the crowd of townspeople and guards. They, still frantically gathering up coins, paid no more heed to him than they did to Sheriff Vaisey and Gisborne fastened up on the wall. As he passed by Sir Jasper's coach, he was amused to see the man stretched out on the ground next to his guards, knocked unconscious by Little John. John gave Tuck a nod, and turned to follow him. Robin and the other outlaws had already climbed down off the wall. Tuck and John met them in a back alley.

"Good work, all!" Robin said as they laughed and embraced.

"Robin, I knew you'd come for us!" cried Much.

"Of course, lads. And, I'm sorry for the things I said to you. I didn't mean it. You're the best men in England, and the most loyal and brave."

"It's okay, Robin, we knew you didn't mean it. We're just so glad to see you alive. We thought Gisborne had killed you!"

"Hold on," said Allan, giving Tuck a suspicious glance. "You haven't explained how Gisborne knew where to find us!"

Tuck smiled. "Sometimes you have to risk a lot to win a lot."

"Yeah?" answered Allan. "Well, next time, risk your own neck!"

"I will," said Tuck, "and gladly."

"Tuck's joining our fight, lads," Robin told them. "He's one of us now."

"We've got work to do, all of us," said Tuck. "The Sheriff will come at us with everything he's got now. We have to be ready."

"We will be, Tuck. Vaisey hasn't won this fight yet."

"Back to the camp for now?" asked Will. "We need to let Marian know that you are okay, Robin. I can only stall her questions for so long."

"I've got one last thing to do first," Robin told them. He pulled the dagger from his belt and sprinted back toward the square.

"Robin, no!" shouted Tuck, but Robin was already out of sight.

"Where's he going?" asked Much.

"What do you think?" answered John. "To kill Gisborne."

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Guy pulled against the arrows, but they were lodged deep. He saw Robin striding toward him, dagger in hand. The outlaw reached him, and held the knife to his throat. He felt his pulse against the blade, and saw his death in Robin's eyes.

"Go on!" Guy pleaded. "Do it! You want revenge, so take it!"

Robin drew back a little, frowning. "You want this?"

"Yes."

Robin stared into the face of his enemy. There was no fight left, no anger, no hatred. There was nothing but a bitter despair reflected in the eyes that looked back at him.

His hand hesitated, lowered._ He thinks Marian is dead, and it's eating him alive_, thought Robin. _He wants death, he's asking for it._

_But I won't. I can't. Death would be a release for him. No, I won't give him that, not after what he's done. God forgive me, but I want him to suffer, as I've suffered, as Marian has suffered._

"I can't bear this! Please, end this now. I live in hell!"

Robin's lips curled in a snarl.

"You can stay there forever for all I care!"

He lifted the blade and sliced Guy's cheek. The man cried out in pain, and bowed his head. Robin turned away and went to rejoin his men. He looked back once. Guy was slumped down, still pinned to the wall, and he was sobbing.

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"Today's humiliation has ruined your authority with the people of Nottingham," a bruised and bandaged Sir Jasper told Vaisey that evening in the Great Hall. "And, I hardly need add, your credibility with Prince John, when I tell him."

He snapped up his papers from the table.

"It's back to London for me, and not a moment too soon. Think well on what I've said, Vaisey. Your future as Sheriff hangs by a very slender thread. Prince John will not be forgiving forever." He bowed scornfully and left the room.

Vaisey stood with a red face and clenched fists. His fury soon found an outlet, in Gisborne, who was seated, staring down at the table. The knife cut across his cheek was cleaned up but plainly visible. The Sheriff walked over and looked down at him with a contemptuous sneer.

"You pathetic, misery-addled mess."

Guy lifted his head.

"You're teetering on the brink of dispensibility, Gisborne. Make sure you don't fall off."

Guy stared back at him. "You know," he said, in a flat, calm voice, "I've finally come to the conclusion that I don't like you."

"Oh, what's the matter?" mocked the Sheriff, as he shoved him roughly in the chest. "Has that nasty Robin Hood been mean to our poor little Guy? Oh, dear, dear! Or are you still moping about Marian—"

Guy exploded out of his chair, grabbed Vaisey in a grip of iron, and threw him down on his back across the table like a rag doll.

"That's right, Gisborne!" Vaisey bawled back at him. "You'd better show some spine, you're going to need it! Robin Hood let you live. Now you go out there and get him this time!"

Guy slammed Vaisey's shoulders back painfully before releasing him. He stalked out of the room without another word. Vaisey got up slowly, more shaken by the man's murderous rage than he cared to admit. He had seen another side of Gisborne just then, one he didn't like. His obedient, subservient attack dog was off the leash, and no longer fully under his control.


	6. Chapter 6 Not My Problem Anymore

"NOT MY PROBLEM ANYMORE"

The situation did not improve for the Sheriff in the following week. His next scheme to raise money for Prince John's demands—the kidnapping of village men to sell to the visiting king of Ireland as recruits for his army—met with dismal failure.

In a daring rescue that left even Vaisey shaking his head in disbelief at the cheek of the man, Robin Hood and his gang of outlaws whisked the whole lot into the depths of Sherwood Forest. Try as they might, Gisborne and his guards could not find them, even with dogs. After three days of fruitless searching, Guy conceded defeat, and came back to Nottingham to face Vaisey's wrath once more.

To add insult to injury, Robin had also made off with the Irish king's payment. Vaisey was forced to open his rapidly dwindling coffers to reimburse the man for his loss, before the king left in disgust, to do business with someone who could deliver the goods as promised.

The next morning, Vaisey sat at the table in the Great Hall. The men sent from London to collect Prince John's payment, and the body of Robin Hood, were just arrived at Nottingham. Guy came in, coat over one arm and sword belt in the other. He set them both down in a chair, and pulled up another to sit across from Vaisey.

"They're here, my lord."

"Yes, I know."

"What are we going to do?"

Vaisey said nothing, just gave him a long, sardonic smile. Guy shifted uneasily in his chair. Finally the Sheriff responded.

"We, Gisborne? We are not going to do anything. No, this time, you are."

"What?"

"I'm sending you with them. You're going to go to Prince John and explain to him personally why we don't have his money, or Robin Hood."

"Send me there?" Guy stood up, nearly knocking over the chair in his haste. His face turned pale.

"No need for us both to go, is there? No, I think you can explain things to him very well by yourself."

"My lord, please, that means certain death, you know that!"

"Hmm," replied the Sheriff as he studied his nails. "I have to agree with you there, Gizzy. It's well within the realms of possibility."

He turned as several soldiers entered the room. "Ah, gentlemen, welcome."

He looked them over. "New uniforms? Very smart." Then he motioned to Gisborne.

"Sir Guy here will be accompanying you back to London as my representative. You may take him whenever you're ready."

"No!" Guy continued to protest. "My lord, you can't be serious!"

"I assure you, I am."

"He'll have me killed!"

"Not my problem anymore, Gisborne. Yours."

He picked up Guy's thick leather coat. "Weighs a bloody ton!" he said as he flung it at him.

Then he fingered the sword belt. He unsheathed Guy's long, heavy sword, and made a show of examining the intricately carved hilt.

"Nice. Maybe I'll keep this for myself. You won't be needing it."

The guards stepped forward and seized Guy by the arms to lead him away. He struggled against them, but they were not common soldiers. Bigger, tougher, and used to dealing with men like Gisborne.

"Get off me!" he roared, to no avail. As Prince John's elite guards dragged him none too gently from the room, he turned and pointed his finger at Vaisey. His face was dark with rage and hatred.

"I'll be back, for you!"

Vaisey shrugged as Gisborne was marched away.

_There_, he thought, _that's better. One problem out of the way. Should have done that a long time ago. Next problem—who do I find to replace him?_

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Sheriff Vaisey found this was not such an easy problem to fix. The weeks that followed presented him with no solution. Gisborne, as incompetent as he was, had at least looked the part. His menacing glower was enough to keep most of the citizenry in line.

But two months passed, with no word from London. Even the visits from Sir Jasper, as irritating as they were, ceased. Vaisey found that he couldn't sleep. He snapped at the guards more than usual, sent back every meal as inedible, and ordered so many people, innocent or not, locked up that even the jailer dared to complain.

Vaisey lay awake night after night, brooding over his misfortunes and wondering how to improve them. His former right-hand man, as usual, proved a handy scapegoat for his pent-up ire.

_Gisborne. That fool. I gave him everything. He was such a promising pupil once. But he threw it all away, over a woman! The big, soft-hearted cretin. She laughed at him all the while, and he put up with it. Always his weakness—his humanity. I tried to cure him of it. But, no, he wouldn't learn. I'm well rid of him. He outlived his usefulness to me a long time ago._

_The trouble started with our dear Lady Marian, yes. After her demise he became more and more unpredictable. Dangerous, defiant, challenging my authority. I couldn't control him, and if I couldn't, he was of no use to me._

_Just wish I knew what he's up to now. Off to London, gallivanting with Prince John. Plotting against me? Scheming to take my place as the new Sheriff of Nottingham? No, he's too stupid for that._

_Of course, he does have other qualities. Reasonably skilled with a sword, strong as an angry bull. Has lots of experience in scaring people out of their wits, and he's good at it, I must say. And he can turn on the charm if he thinks it's worth his while. I wonder if he worked that charm on Prince John._

_Hmm, maybe not. Prince John might have given him a job cleaning out the cesspit at his castle in London. Ha! He's probably there now, shovel in hand and knee-deep in foul-smelling muck. Or, even better, perhaps his handsome head is rotting on a pike on London Bridge, with those arrogant eyes of his pecked out by the crows, and his disemboweled corpse is feeding the fish at the bottom of the Thames. Ah, now there's a welcome thought! That's cheered me up considerably. Gisborne as fish food. Presents a very satisfying picture. Good riddance to him, I say._

_What I need is someone new. I need someone ready-made, with all the right qualities already in place. I'm getting too old to start training someone all over again._

_Now, Ruthless Rufus, he was my kind of scum. There was a man who got the job done. He brought in more overdue taxes for me in a week than Gisborne did in a year. Could've used him. He was perfect. No bothersome conscience or tender bleeding heart to get in the way. He made Gisborne look all warm and cuddly. Too bad about Rufus. Got himself killed by Robin Hood over some trifling matter with a village girl, just when we were starting to have fun together._

_That's what I need, another Rufus, with Gisborne's charisma and Robin's skills thrown in. With a man like that at my side I'd be invincible. I'd even thumb my nose at Prince John. And Gisborne? If he's still alive, he'll never dare lift his head in my presence again! Defy me, question my authority, sneer at me? He'll find himself at the bottom of the Thames all right, with a heavy weight tied around his ungrateful neck!_

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"Whew, what a week it's been!" said Much, as he dished out the evening meal to the others.

"I hope this isn't squirrel again," said Allan.

"No, it's not squirrel. Very funny. I wouldn't mind someone else doing the cooking for a night, you know! You all love to complain, but I've noticed that none of you volunteer to help out."

"Much, it's fine. Delicious, in fact. Tastes just like squirrel."

"Like I said, before I was rudely interrupted, it's been quite a week."

"Ruthless Rufus, what a name. And he sure lived up to it," said Djaq.

"I can't say I'm sorry that you killed him, Robin," added Will.

"I don't want to kill anyone, Will. I wish I never had to again. But, he had to be stopped. I'm just glad I met him in a fair fight, at least."

"It was more than he deserved. Don't feel bad about it. Nottingham's a safer place now that he's gone. I have to say, the idea of him staying on as Vaisey's man terrified me."

"Me, too. Can you imagine that team, he and the Sheriff? Doesn't bear thinking about, does it? He was almost worse than Vaisey."

"I'd say he was worse than Vaisey, if that's possible."

"How is the girl? What was her name, Beth?" asked Tuck.

"About as well as can be expected, considering. The whole thing just sickens me. Gisborne was low, but even he had some sense of honour. I can't see him doing anything like that."

"I have to agree with you, much as I hate the man. Even he had a limit to how low he would sink. I doubt Rufus did." Will shook his head.

"I wonder what's become of him, Gisborne, I mean?"

"Most of the people I've talked to think he's dead. He was packed off to Prince John two months ago, and hasn't been heard from since," Tuck told them.

"It'd be nice if it were true," said Robin, "but something tells me we haven't seen the last of him."


	7. Chapter 7 Enter Isabella

ENTER ISABELLA

Three days later, Robin and Little John were returning from a drop-off of food at Clun Village, when they were startled by the sight of a woman being chased through the forest near the road to Clun by a group of horsemen. Robin and John ducked behind a clump of trees as the men galloped by.

The woman was making a courageous effort at escape, but, hampered by the long skirt of her dress, she could not outrun the riders. They soon overtook her.

"Let me go!" she cried, as one man pulled her hands behind her, and another produced a length of rope.

"What do we do, Robin?" John whispered.

"What we do best," replied Robin, with a smile and a wink.

He and John burst from the trees with loud yells. Robin swung his sword, and John whirled his staff over his head. The four men, prepared only to take one defenseless woman prisoner, were caught by surprise. John laid out two of them senseless on the ground before they could raise their weapons, and Robin made short work of the other two.

The woman, in the meantime, retreated into the forest. Robin left John to tie up the fallen men, and chased her down.

"Whoa, wait! It's okay! You're safe!"

He took her arm. She turned to face him. She was beautiful. Strong but refined features, wide-set, deep blue eyes. Long, dark hair tumbling in waves down her back. Robin could only stare.

"Let go of my arm!" she demanded.

"Sorry," he said, finding his voice as John caught up with them. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Why were those men chasing you?"

She hesitated, and looked them over warily. "I was helping my mistress escape her abusive husband."

"Your mistress? You're a servant?"

Robin gazed at her dress, richly ornamented and embroidered, and the costly necklaces at her throat.

"I was her decoy," she replied, looking away from him as she caught his smirk. "I would hardly have made a convincing decoy in my maid's clothes, now would I?"

Robin didn't believe a word of her story, but still, here was someone who clearly needed help and protection.

"Okay. So, where were you planning to go from here?"

"To Nottingham. I-I know someone there."

"I hope you're not referring to Sheriff Vaisey."

"No, not him."

Robin sensed her reluctance to volunteer anything more.

"Can you at least tell me your name?"

"Isabella."

"Well, Isabella, I'd like to offer you my help, if you'll accept it. Nottingham is a dangerous place. You might not want to go there all alone."

"I'll be fine, thank you all the same."

"Can we at least see you as far as the gate? This is Sherwood Forest, after all. Lots of outlaws roam these woods."

"Like I said, I'll be fine."

She turned to go, but Robin and John both stopped her.

"Let go of me!" she started to protest, but they shushed her.

"Someone's coming! Let's get off the road!"

They melted back into the trees, just in time, as a large group of horsemen thundered by. Soldiers, wearing the uniform of Prince John's elite guard. And at their head, a tall man, dressed in black.

"God help us, John. He's back."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Sheriff waited, with growing impatience, for two days after hearing of Gisborne's return, but he made no appearance at the castle.

"He's in Sherwood Forest, my lord," one of the guards informed him. "With soldiers from Prince John."

"And he hasn't told me? Get me my horse, now!"

Vaisey hid the surprise he felt upon glimpsing the elaborate camp Gisborne had set up on the south border of Sherwood. He rode into the camp with a cool demeanor, and passed by the soldiers practicing their fighting skills with only a quick and indifferent glance. He dismounted, and soon located Guy. The man was bent over a table set up under a canopy, studying a map. He glanced up briefly at Vaisey's approach, then turned back to his map.

He was, Vaisey noticed, considerably less dirty and unkempt than the last time he'd seen him. He was smartly dressed in his favourite black leather, from heavy coat to boots. The handsome, strong-featured face was clean-shaven, the dark mane of hair swept back from the expressive eyes. Vaisey also noted that there was no submission in his manner, none of the former eagerness to please.

"Back from London?" Vaisey greeted him. "And still alive!"

"As you see."

"Things must have gone well at court."

Guy gave him a long look from under his straight dark brows.

"Well, they couldn't have gone that badly, not for Prince John to have supplied you with this—soldiers, horses, weapons."

"Necessities."

"Ah, is that what you call them? What's this all about, then?"

"Prince John has sent me on a mission."

"I see. And yet no one has bothered to tell me. The last time I checked, I was still the Sheriff."

"He wants me to find Robin Hood, and he sent along his finest men to assist me."

"Ha! I'm sure he does. But, you've never succeeded yet. Why should this time be any different?"

Guy straightened up, moved toward Vaisey until he was only inches from his face, and looked down on him with a disdainful smirk. Vaisey had forgotten how tall the man was, and how intimidating his size could be. He had never liked that his second in command towered over him, especially now, when he was using that height to his advantage. He backed away a couple of steps, but Guy followed him.

"It will be different this time," he told him, in that deep, soft tone that Vaisey recognized as Guy at his most menacing, "because this time I will be leading the operation, and I'll have no incompetent, blundering, ill-conceived interference from others to deal with."

Vaisey sneered. "No, Gisborne. You will fail, as you always have, and then you'll come crawling back to me, begging for my patronage!"

He fully expected Guy to crumble then, for him to step obediently back in line, for that mocking hauteur to be wiped from his face. But the man only smiled, a cold, superior smile.

"Not this time. I don't need you anymore. I'll have no need of you, ever again."

He turned his back on Vaisey.

"By the way," he added over his shoulder as he walked away, "the prince wants me to remind you that he's still waiting for his money. And, just in case you've forgotten, it's been two months, so you now owe him two thousand crowns."

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Robin, Little John, and their new acquaintance made their way through Sherwood in the direction of Nottingham. Robin had briefly considered taking Isabella back to the outlaw camp with them until they knew what Gisborne was up to, but some inner voice told him not to betray the location of their camp, even to a person who looked as innocent as the lovely woman who walked beside him. He deemed it best to make straight for Nottingham, but reminded John to be on the alert.

"I guess it was too much to hope that we'd seen the last of him," John muttered.

"Those were Prince John's elite troops with him, John. That's bad news. I just wish I knew what he's planning."

"We'll find out soon enough, I'm sure."

"Who is he? Is he after you?" asked Isabella.

Robin looked long at her, but her face showed no sign of understanding.

"Guy of Gisborne," Robin replied. "Sheriff Vaisey's right-hand man, and the enforcer of his brand of law in these parts."

She shook her head. "I've never heard of him," she said. "Why is he after you?"

Robin hesitated before replying. "Because," he told her, "me and my men are outlaws."

"Oh, I see." Her hand went instinctively to her necklaces.

He saw it and smiled. "Don't worry, you're in no danger from us. We'll get you to Nottingham one way or another."

Some time later, they were met by Allan, Much, and Will. The men dragged a deer carcass behind them. They shouted and waved when they spotted Robin.

"Oy! Look what we got! We'll have a feast tonight!"

Robin hurried to them, a finger on his lips.

"What's wrong?"

He told them.

"Gisborne, back? Are you sure?"

"We saw him, Will. We don't know where he was heading, so for now we've got to assume he could be anywhere in Sherwood."

John and Isabella caught up with them. The three men stared at Isabella. She flung her head back proudly and met their stares with a level gaze. Robin introduced her, and told them in brief of how she had ended up in their company.

"We've got to get her safely to Nottingham. I suggest we split up, in case Gisborne's soldiers are in the area. Will, come with me and John. Allan, Much, get yourselves back to the camp and wait for us. Is Tuck there?"

"No, he's with Djaq, at Matilda's."

"Good. They'll be safe enough there. Come on, let's go."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Before an hour had passed, Robin's group spotted the first of the soldiers under Gisborne's command. Several of them appeared without warning, positioned on a low outcropping of rock, with weapons drawn. The outlaws were easy targets, but for some reason, the soldiers did not attack. Instead, they moved toward the outlaws, and closed in like a tightening net, with calculated precision. Robin and the others fled as fast as they could, only to encounter another group not far away. They veered off into a denser patch of woods, hoping to fade out of sight long enough to throw their pursuers off course.

Allan and Much fared no better. Chased relentlessly by one band of soldiers after another, they were forced, to Much's grief, to abandon the fat carcass of the deer for the carrion birds to feast on, and flee unhindered deep into Sherwood Forest.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Several hours of cat and mouse play followed. The outlaws, exhausted and disoriented, eventually caught up with each other again, close to the same area where they had started their retreat.

"This is crazy!" panted Robin. "This is no random hunt. We're being chased in circles."

"They know what they're doing, I'll give them that much," said Will.

"Come on, lads, we're better than this!" Robin exclaimed. "We know this forest like the backs of our hands. How can they be smarter than us? We need a plan, or they're just going to wear us out until we're caught."

"There's too many of them," said Much, his face drawn and anxious. "They seem to be everywhere!"

"Maybe," said Robin, with a thoughtful smile, "it's time for us to stop running."

"What? And fight them?" asked Allan.

"No. Much is right. There are too many of them. We should split up again, but this time, get behind one of the groups of soldiers, and follow them. It's getting on toward sundown. Sooner or later they'll head back for the night to wherever their home base is. If we could find it, we might have a better grasp on what Gisborne is doing, and we can make a plan to stop him."

"How?"

"I haven't worked that out yet, have I? We'll see. If they're not staying in Nottingham, they might be camped out somewhere here in Sherwood. If so, and if we can find Gisborne's camp, we could, perhaps, sabotage it?"

"Sounds risky."

"No more than what we're doing now. These are highly trained soldiers we're dealing with, not the idiots from Nottingham Castle. This little game could go on forever if we don't change our course of action."

"You're right. Let's give it a try," said John.

"If all else fails, head for the camp, if you're sure you've thrown them off the scent. We're safer there than anywhere else."

The outlaws parted company again. Though the shadows were growing long in the forest, bands of soldiers were still making their way through the trees. Robin, with John, Will, and Isabella, steathily followed three of them for some distance.

"We're getting near the southern border of Sherwood," Robin told Isabella. "Beyond it is Nottingham."

They suddenly lost sight of the soldiers in the deepening twilight.

"Now what?" asked John.

"Look, up ahead. I see lights. Torches, or a campfire, maybe?" said Will.

"Let's check it out. But be careful."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"It's Gisborne's camp, no doubt of it," whispered Robin to the others. "And pretty fancy, too. He likes to do things up in style, doesn't he?"

"Looks to me like they plan on being here for a while," observed Will. "They've picked a good location. Easy to defend."

"But there's no one defending it now," said Robin in a puzzled tone. "In fact, no one seems to be home. Where's Gisborne?"

"Right here," said a familiar voice from behind them. Robin and the others whirled around.

"Where I've always been, Hood, one step ahead of you!"

Gisborne and his three soldiers, the same three they had been trailing, charged at the outlaws. A fierce battle ensued. John and Will fought off the soldiers, and disappeared into the woods as they did so, but Robin quickly found himself losing his fight with Gisborne. The man was back all right, and no longer the broken, inebriated wretch he had been when he left. Robin could outmatch Gisborne any day with his bow, but swordfighting was another matter. There, his enemy had the advantage.

Isabella had slipped to one side when the fight began, but as Guy raised his sword to deliver another punishing blow to Robin, who was now sprawled on the ground, she picked up one of the weapons dropped by the retreating soldiers, and effectively, if somewhat clumsily, blocked his strike. His sword clashed against hers, and hovered motionless over the wide-eyed Robin. She spoke to Guy in French. Guy froze, his eyes riveted on her. For the moment, Robin was forgotten.

"Isabella?" he cried.

"Yes, it's me, Guy."

Robin saw his chance, and kicked hard at Guy's legs. The man went down heavily. Robin found his feet, snatched up his sword, and went after Guy. Isabella grabbed his arm.

"No, Robin, don't! He's my brother!"

Robin stared openmouthed at her, then at Guy, who was by then half-way up.

"Get him!" Guy yelled at his soldiers, who were nowhere in sight.

Another well-aimed kick sent him into the dirt again, and before he could get up a second time, Robin had fled.

Guy rubbed his thigh, as painfully bruised as his pride, and limped back to the camp, with Isabella close behind him. When they got there, he turned on her in a fury.

"Isabella, what are you doing here?"

"I came to find you. I need help."

"It looks to me like you already found it!" He overturned a table and flung down his weapon.

"I had him at the point of my sword until you interfered! He's an outlaw, and you were consorting with him!"

"Guy, please, I didn't know. I needed help, and he offered it. I didn't know he was an outlaw."

"Well, now he's gotten away, thanks to you!"

"Guy, brother, don't be angry with me."

"Why are you here? Why aren't you in Shrewsbury? Where's Thornton?"

"I left him."

"You what?"

"Guy, I don't think you knew what you were doing when you gave me to him. He's a beast! My life has been terrible. I'm asking for your protection."

"Isabella, you were joined in holy matrimony. And now you tell me you just walked out?"

"You have no idea what he did to me. He was cruel. He beat me! You didn't know before, but now you do. If you send me back to him, you'll be condemning me to a life of misery a second time, only this time you'll be doing it knowingly. Guy, I'm your sister! Surely you feel some sort of obligation toward me. I'll win back your trust, I promise. Just let me stay! Don't send me back to him."

Guy stared silently at the ground for a moment. He drew in a deep breath and nodded toward her.

"All right, Isabella," he answered in a calmer tone, "you may stay. And I will give you my protection."

"Thank you!"

He moved close to her and lifted her face to look up at him.

"But if I ever catch you in Robin Hood's company again, I'll take you back to Shrewsbury myself. Do you understand?"

"Yes. It won't happen again."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Gisborne's sister?"

Robin nodded to his men, gathered in a circle around the fireplace in Matilda's cottage. Marian sat beside him, her arm through his. It was close to midnight. All had made it safely back to the outlaw camp—the soldiers evidently having given up for the night—and from there had hurried to Matilda's home to regroup. A good meal from her generous kitchen, and a couple of rounds of mead, had steadied their nerves somewhat.

"You didn't recognize her, Robin? You knew her, didn't you?" asked Marian.

"She was a little girl the last time I saw her, no more than ten or eleven. And Isabella's a common enough name. How was I to know she was his sister?"

He shook his head and smiled. "She lied to me, too. I just now realized it. When I told her it was Gisborne chasing us, she looked me right in the eye and said she'd never heard of him."

"She told us she knew someone in Nottingham," added Little John. "Hmph, guess now we know who she meant, don't we?"

"It's a good thing we didn't bring her to the camp. Heaven knows what she's telling her brother about us," said Much.

"Look, I don't know that she's telling him anything. What can she tell him that Gisborne doesn't already know? She doesn't know where our camp is, and that's the main thing. But, we do know where his camp is."

"Robin, you've got that twinkle in your eye," said Much. "What are you scheming now?"

"Listen, lads. Those soldiers we were running from today, let's be honest, they could have caught us easily if they'd wanted to. Gisborne's toying with us. He'll be right back at it tomorrow, no doubt, and he'll keep at it until he wears us down. That arrogant bastard is playing a nasty little game with us, and I for one don't like it."

"True. But what are we going to do?"

"I'm thinking that maybe we should pay him a visit tomorrow. A nice, friendly visit."


	8. Chapter 8 Never Trust an Outlaw

NEVER TRUST AN OUTLAW

Before dawn, their plan was in place. While Gisborne's soldiers slept, Robin's men overpowered, gagged, and tied up the sentries, and then carefully put their preparations into position around the camp.

At sunrise, before any bands of soldiers had been dispatched to the forest, Robin, unarmed and alone, strolled nonchalantly into the midst of Gisborne's camp, hands on the back of his head with the fingers entwined, and a broad smile on his face. He made an elaborate show of looking around at the set-up. He nodded his approval of what he saw, and bowed jauntily to the guards who lined his path on either side.

"Good morning, all!"

Guy came out and stood at the entrance of his tent with Isabella beside him. Outside, his expression was calm, confident. Inside, he fumed at Robin's smug cheekiness. Deeper down, which angered him even more, was an admiration for, and a jealousy of, his enemy's brazen display of courage.

Robin took in the sight of brother and sister standing together, and wondered why he hadn't recognized Isabella when he'd seen her the first time. The resemblance between the siblings was striking. She was as beautiful as he was handsome.

"Good morning, Sir Guy, Isabella. I like what you've done with the place. Very nice."

Several soldiers moved toward him, but Guy waved them back.

"Didn't expect to receive your visit, Hood," he said, his mouth twisted in a smirk.

Robin laughed. "I find that hard to believe."

He gave Guy a head-to-toe sweep with his eyes. "You're looking good, Gisborne, for a dead man."

"You shouldn't listen to rumours."

"Must have made quite an impression on Prince John."

"A better one than you have."

"Undoubtedly. But I've heard he's a fickle man. Gets bored rather quickly with his playthings. If I were you, I'd watch your back."

"Thank you for the warning."

"Isabella, so, what have you told your charming brother about us?"

"You will have no further dealings with my sister. She knows where her loyalties lie."

Robin grinned in a way that Guy found maddening. "I'm sure she does."

"I take it, Hood, that this is not strictly a social call."

"You're right. I'm here on business. Would you like to hear my demands?"

"Demands?" said Guy, cocking one brow and crossing his arms on his chest. "By all means, demand away."

"First of all, stop chasing me and my men, now. It's getting on my nerves."

"I see. Any others?"

"Yes. Get out of my forest."

"Hmm, okay, that's a reasonable request. Let me think about it."

He pushed Isabella behind him, into the relative safety of the tent, and gestured toward the soldiers.

"Kill him!"

All eighty men moved toward Robin, and all were suddenly and liberally dusted with a fine yellow powder falling from the trees above, as the outlaw's arrows found their targets.

Howls of pain replaced the drawn swords. The soldiers scattered, holding their hands to their faces, eyes streaming. Robin, doubled up with laughter, had just enough time to fling the contents of another bag of powder straight into Guy's face as the man charged at him. Guy drew back, startled, before he, too, began to wail and rub at his burning eyes.

It was easy work after that for Robin's men to knock down the tents, loose and drive off all the horses, and set the stockpile of weapons ablaze.

Guy ran around in circles, bawling orders to men who were screaming too loudly to hear him, and too blinded by the tears in their eyes to obey him even if they could. Robin couldn't resist a parting kick to the man's posterior, which sent Guy sprawling face-first into the dirt, before he ran back out of the enclosure with the rest of his men, and into the woods beyond the camp.

"Excellent work, lads, and lady! That'll keep them out of our hair for a while. Come on, let's get back to our camp."

As they were turning to go, Robin stopped, listening.

"What am I hearing? Are they—"

"Yep, you heard right," laughed Allan. "Every last one of them, by the sound."

He looked at Tuck and Djaq. "What was in that powder, anyway?"

Djaq smiled and inclined her head modestly. "Oh, just a little something extra I added to the hot pepper. My secret, and Matilda's."

"Causes instant, overwhelming, totally disabling nausea," Tuck added, with a huge grin.

"For how long?"

"I expect they'll be out of commission for at least a day, maybe two."

"Maybe longer," said Djaq.

"Djaq, tell me, please tell me you did. Was there any of that secret of yours in the powder I threw in Gisborne's face?"

"Robin, let's just say that I was feeling very generous toward our friend Sir Guy today."

"So, you didn't put any in his?"

"No. Quite the opposite. He got an extra dose."

Robin laughed and hugged her. "Djaq, you're wonderful! Very evil, but wonderful!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Djaq had indeed been generous in her little "gift" to Gisborne. His eyes stopped burning after an hour or two, but it was a full four days before he could keep down any solid food. More than once in those four days he wished himself dead and out of his misery. He shut himself away at Locksley Manor, and sent no word to Vaisey of his whereabouts. The only thing that could possibly be worse than the constant and violent retching, he imagined, would be to have the Sheriff show up at the manor, stand over him, and laugh uproariously at him as he emptied his stomach once again into a bucket.

Five days went by before he ventured outside, and reluctantly rode with Isabella toward the castle. Prince John's soldiers, badly demoralized and still quite green, had already been sent back to London in humbled disgrace.

Vaisey, by this time, had heard the whole story. He was ready and waiting when Guy and Isabella entered the Great Hall.

"Ah, Gisborne, it's been a while since I've had the pleasure of your company. You're looking a bit peaked this morning. Rough night, was it?"

Guy did not reply.

"So, how was your little camping trip in Sherwood? Fun, successful? Run across anybody interesting while you were out there?"

Guy stared down at the floor.

"Well might you hang your head in shame! You never cease to amaze me. Just when I think you've plumbed the depths of incompetence, you surprise me all over again. You've managed once again to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory! Now maybe Prince John will remember why he put me in command!"

He noticed Isabella, who had remained a silent witness to her brother's humiliating dressing-down, and gestured derisively at her.

"And this, is this what distracted you?"

"This is my sister, Isabella."

"Oh. Oh, I see. How lovely. Little sister come to pay a visit. Playing happy family, were we? While Robin Hood and his gang of criminals make fools of us!"

He pointed toward the door.

"Get out, Gisborne. Out. I don't want to see you again today. Think about what I've said. Last chance. There will be no more after this."

Guy lifted his head and gave Vaisey a long, expressionless gaze. Then he left the room, his sister following him. He was silent, but Isabella caught the malevolent gleam in his eyes, before he turned and strode down the hall to his room. The look on her brother's face boded ill for Sheriff Vaisey.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Word soon reached Vaisey and Gisborne that Prince John, fed up at last with the ongoing fiasco in Nottingham, was on his way.

"This is your doing, Gisborne," Vaisey snapped at him, as they scrambled to make preparations. "If you'd actually succeeded in getting rid of Hood instead of just boasting about it—"

"I haven't heard you come up with a better plan," replied Guy evenly.

"I don't like your tone. You're way out of line!"

"Am I?" Guy smirked.

Vaisey drew himself up and stood toe to toe with him.

"I am still the Sheriff of Nottingham, in case you need reminding!" he bawled at full volume in Guy's face.

He turned away and left the room to scream orders at the servants. Guy watched him go, smiled, and muttered under his breath, "For now."


	9. Chapter 9 Prince John, But Not Charming

PRINCE JOHN, BUT NOT CHARMING

"Gisborne, do you love me? Are you loyal to me?"

"Of course, sire."

Guy knelt before Prince John, head down and shrinking inside, and not without reason. He'd had plenty of first-hand experience with the man while an inmate of his court in London, and was well aware of his caprices, his petty cruelties.

"I'm so glad to hear it, because I don't think the Sheriff loves me. I don't think he does at all. I've asked him, nicely, mind you, to give me Robin Hood. But no. Robin Hood's life, his blood, is a gift I want, yet he doesn't give it to me. Which means, he doesn't love me!"

He bent down from his chair, grabbed Guy under the chin, and forced him to look up at him.

"Then again," he said, "you haven't delivered, either."

"Sire, I can—"

"No, no, I've heard the whole story already. Don't bore me with it again. But I will have blood, Gisborne, I will."

He let Guy's head drop down. Guy cringed and shut his eyes. This was a man who could, and did, order imprisonments, and, not infrequently, executions, on the merest whim. He had witnessed it more than once during his two months in London.

"Is it so much to ask?" the prince continued mournfully. "A little love and loyalty from my subjects is all I want. My father Henry, God rest his soul, always advised me to surround myself with those who loved me and were loyal to me without question. He wanted me to be king, Gisborne, not my brother Richard. Me. Well, I will be. I have great plans, and plans for you as well."

He smiled down at Guy.

"Vaisey is the problem standing in the way, though, isn't he? After all, you can't both be Sheriff."

"Sire?" Guy looked up.

"You'd make a fine Sheriff, Sir Guy. Hmm, what do you think? You're younger than Vaisey, you're certainly better-looking. You haven't caught Hood yet, true. But you have other qualities. I think you'd do very well."

"Sire, what are you saying?"

"Isn't it obvious? If you love me, if you're loyal to me, prove it. Rid me of Vaisey. Do it quietly, discreetly. It will be our little secret. No one else needs to know. Then get Hood for me, and I'll make you Sheriff. You like the sound of that, don't you?"

"Yes, sire."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

An hour later, Vaisey stood before Prince John.

"Sheriff Vaisey, do you love me? Are you loyal to me?"

"Certainly, sire. Have I not proven that?"

"In most respects, yes. But this matter of Robin Hood…."

"Sire, it's not my fault, it's—"

"Gisborne? Oh, Sheriff, he has so disappointed me."

"Both of us, sire."

"I gave him my best troops, the cream of my army, and yet still he failed to catch Robin Hood."

"He's an incompetent fool, sire."

"I agree. Then why is he still in your employ?"

"He won't be for much longer, sire. When I can find a suitable replacement for him—"

"Sheriff, who is more loyal to me, you or Gisborne?"

"Myself, of course, sire. My loyalty is infinite."

"Then prove it to me. Vaisey, if you love me, if you are loyal to me, you'll rid me of Gisborne. Do it quietly and discreetly. We don't want to upset our arriving noble guests with this messy business. Do this for me, and you'll keep your office as Sheriff, and I'll overlook the fact that you haven't given me Robin Hood yet. I'll grant you a little more time. Do we have a deal?"

"It would be an honour, sire, and a privilege."

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_Yes_, thought the prince after Vaisey left him,_ that should do it. If I know anything of either man, they'll be at each other's throats in no time at all. And may the best man win. I'll find out who has what it takes to be Sheriff of Nottingham._

Prince John did not have to wait long. At the banquet in the Great Hall that evening, the tension between Sheriff Vaisey and Gisborne, seated beside each other at the prince's table, was palpable. The prince laughed inside to see them exchange strained smiles, and then furtive glances as they both slyly switched plates of food repeatedly in fear of being poisoned by the other. He had not been so entertained by anything since his arrival in Nottingham. It was almost a shame that it would all end soon in the death of at least one of the former allies.

But it mattered not to Prince John which one of them succeeded. Either way, the Sheriff of Nottingham would be under his control.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Prince John was not the only one who saw what was happening, however. Isabella, quietly eating her meal beside her brother, saw it all, and, being far more intelligent than any of her male counterparts would ever have guessed, quickly pieced the scene together.

From the moment she had fled her husband's home, her only quest had been power. Power to run her own life, make her own decisions, and power enough so that no one could hurt her ever again. She had found temporary refuge with her brother, but she had seen that he was not invincible. The outlaw Robin Hood had made a proper fool of him and his men with that burning powder trick. Besides, she had no wish to live in his shadow.

Sheriff Vaisey she despised from their first meeting. But he was ruthless and cunning, and relentless in the pursuit of power for himself. That at least she could admire about him. Best to stay on his good side. Prince John? Despicable, too, like all men, but powerful by his very birth. Yes, and attracted to her. She sensed that already. She could use that to her advantage, if she played her game carefully.

So she sat demurely at the table, and when Prince John's gaze lingered on her, she met his eyes and smiled.

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By the end of the first week of Prince John's residence in Nottingham Castle, Vaisey was ready to explode. The demands for entertainment, feasts, and various and expensive comforts for himself and his servants, were endless. Baths every week? Unheard of! A waste of water, and wood to heat it. He kept Vaisey's castle staff running night and day, catering to his whims. No one dared tell him no, however. Prince John did not take kindly to being told no.

The Sheriff gritted his teeth, and vented his spleen on Gisborne, with whom he was now completely at odds. At times he actually missed their old camaraderie. No one anymore with whom he could sneer at the miserable peasants and castle servants, or mock Prince John's megalomania. But Gisborne had failed him, and now Prince John wanted him out of the way, too. He, Vaisey, had been put in the position of doing the job. Unfortunate, to be sure, but Guy had brought it on himself. In time, he could be replaced, this time by someone who would serve without question and without conscience.

Never without a guard, now that Gisborne was more an enemy than ally, and might be lurking around any dark corner with a knife at the ready, Vaisey paced the halls, and plotted his next move.

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Guy arranged for his sister to be given a suite of rooms in the castle for her own use, and he saw to it that the rooms were furnished comfortably. She settled in and seemed content enough, and he was convinced that at least one problem in his life had been dealt with.

At other times she stayed at Locksley Manor, but only if Guy and his guards were also there. She feared her husband still. She did not share these fears with her brother, however, as she discovered early on that he didn't take them all that seriously. In reality, his mind was too preoccupied with the Sheriff's animosity toward him to give much thought to anything else. As a result, he felt only irritation when she confronted him yet again one afternoon as he went to his room to dress for the night's banquet with the prince.

"Isabella, I'm really getting tired of this discussion."

"You're not listening to me."

"What do you want from me, anyway?"

"I told you. I need you to apologize."

"For what?"

"For giving me to Thornton, for selling me, your own sister! You made my life miserable, Guy, and I want you to acknowlege that and apologize."

"Isabella, you're the one who's not listening. I'll say it again. You know I had no choice. I couldn't take care of you. We had nothing when we were driven out of Locksley. What did you expect me to do? If I hadn't, we'd still be in some God-forsaken corner of France, without a farthing or an acre of land to our names! It was our only chance."

"Your chance, you mean."

"Yes, mine. You had yours, too, if you'd made the best of it."

"You don't know what he is, Guy, otherwise you wouldn't say that."

"Isabella, I offered you my protection. That should be enough."

He walked away, provoked beyond words._ As if I don't have enough to deal with_, he thought._ I have to grovel to Prince John, a man I despise, to get what I want from him. And Vaisey, he wants me dead, no doubt of that. It's open war. Now Isabella, demanding an apology every time I turn around. For what? Doing what I had to do? She just doesn't understand. She was only a little girl. Well, I'm not groveling to her as well. I've had all the humiliation I can stomach. She's just going to have to deal with it. I won't send her back to Thornton. She can stay here. But I'll be damned if she's going to make me crawl, too._

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_

Isabella went back to her room, and sat down at the window. Her eyes filled with angry tears.

_I gave you a chance, brother. I was willing to forgive you. I wanted to love you. I thought you loved me. But you don't. You're selfish to the core, just like you always were. So be it. You won't have my love now. I know where I stand with you. I owe you nothing. You won't have my forgiveness, either. And you'll pay, oh, yes, you will._

She stood up, wiped her eyes, breathed deeply to calm herself, and opened her wardrobe. She needed to put on her sweetest smile for the prince tonight, and her prettiest dress. Her brother wasn't the only man in the world, after all. There were others, more powerful, that she could bend to her will.

As she looked over her dresses, all new, since she had carried little with her when she fled her marriage, she spotted one, shoved in the back and forgotten. She took it out. It was torn, and dirty around the hem. She had neglected to have it cleaned and mended. Then she remembered. It was the dress she had worn when she escaped her husband in Shrewsbury. And the dress she was wearing when she met Robin Hood.

She smiled in recollection. Robin. Now there was someone ten times the man that Guy was. Handsome, too. Tousled brown hair, mischievous dark blue eyes, a ready and charming smile. And a whole lot smarter than Guy, or even Vaisey. After all, had he not escaped execution for years, while defying the Sheriff, stealing from him and the other rich and corrupt nobles, and giving back to the poor? Or so she had been told. A good man, a noble man, and courageous. She had seen it for herself. Now, there was someone worth having. Too bad he was on the wrong side of the law.

Well, she wanted power, and the only way for a woman to get it was to play up to the men who already possessed it. Men like Prince John.

She chose her dress, slipped it on, and reached for her hairbrush.

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The evening commenced, as had almost every evening since the prince's arrival, with a feast, music, and entertainment in the Great Hall. Vaisey and Gisborne, seated as usual next to the prince, kept up a tolerable pretense of unity for their guests throughout the meal. Guy's face was grim and unsmiling, however, not only because of the galling proximity of the Sheriff, but because he was incensed at the way his sister, a married woman, was flirting outrageously with Prince John. The two were laughing loudly together, and drinking prodigious amounts of potent wine. He frowned disapprovingly at both of them, but if they saw it, they paid him no heed.

Guy glanced over at Vaisey. The Sheriff had chosen that same moment to cast a surreptitious peek at him. When he saw that Gisborne had him under surveillance, his mouth tightened and his eyes narrowed. Guy threw back his head, feigning indifference, and looked away.

The rest of the evening passed in relative peace. Guy, seeing his censure had been ignored, turned his back on the situation, and spent his time forcing himself to mingle amongst the guests.

He was not a conversationalist. Barking orders at guards was one matter, making pleasant small talk with other nobles was quite another. In truth, he was rather shy, and had never been one to make friends easily. His position as Vaisey's second had not endeared him to many, either. It was an effort to make himself pleasing to the prince's guests. Still, anything was better than remaining at the table, alternately watching his sister make a fool of herself, and keeping an eagle eye on Vaisey.

As soon as he reasonably could, he asked Prince John to excuse him. The prince, in a good humour from too much wine and the attentions of a beautiful woman, let him go without reproof.

After glancing about to make sure that Vaisey was still at the table, was not watching him leave, and therefore would not be following him down any dimly lit hallways, Guy escaped the hot, overcrowded room, and made his way to the quiet of his bedchamber. After undressing, he lay propped up in his bed with a book.

He never read except in the privacy of his bedroom at the castle. Reading was a secret pastime for him, which he never told Vaisey about, as he knew the man would taunt him unmercifully if he were ever to find out. He had shared his secret with only one other person. It was his escape, for a few moments at night, from the harsh realities of his life.

Guy had received a basic education in his younger years, like any boy of his age and station in life. His parents had encouraged him in this, but after their deaths, his further education, as a knight, had consisted largely of training in combat skills. The young men he associated with at that time had been, for the most part, poorly educated and scornful of books. Many were illiterate. His years as a knight, fighting in the Crusades, had supplied Guy with knowledge of sorts, but part of him still craved more.

His two months in London, that sprawling, dirty, but cosmopolitan city, had rekindled his interest in learning. Whenever he was allowed time away from Prince John's court, he had visited the bookseller's stalls in London's many marketplaces, and purchased a number of books. Books of any kind were scarce and expensive, but Guy, after being exposed to London's diversity of culture, saw himself as woefully ignorant of the larger world around him, and longed to better himself. These treasured volumes he carried back from London with him, and locked them in a trunk in his room at the castle for safekeeping, away from the Sheriff's prying eyes.

After finishing his latest selection and setting it down on the table beside his bed, he carefully blew out the candles on the table, checking twice to be sure the flames were completely extinguished. Since the tragic deaths of his parents in the fire in Locksley, Guy had been extremely cautious, almost obsessively so, about fire. Satisfied that the candles were out, he pulled the bed curtains closed, to keep out the chilly night drafts, and drifted off to sleep.

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He was awakened suddenly by a loud crash, a tug on his arm, and a splash of something cold and wet across his face and chest. He sucked in his breath in shock, and choked on thick, acrid smoke. Panicked, blinded, unable to breathe, he grabbed out, and touched a man's arm.

"Sir Guy!" the man cried in a muffled tone, "this way!"

Guy felt himself pulled from the bed and led away through a dark haze of hot smoke. The crackle of flames reached his ears. There were shouts, and blurry figures running to and fro through the gloom. The servant, his mouth covered with a cloth, hurried Guy from the room and into the hallway. Guy sank to the floor, coughing spasmodically, the smoke stinging his eyes. It was some time before he could speak. The servant fetched him a cup of water, which he accepted gratefully.

"What happened?" he asked between deep coughs.

"One of the guards saw smoke coming from under the door, my lord. We had to break it in, it was locked. The men are putting out the fire."

"How did it start? I made sure the candles were out!"

"I don't know, sir."

Half an hour later, the fire was completely out. The room was a mess. Water lay in puddles on the floor, beside twisted, sodden masses of burnt bedding. The bed, even the massive frame, was a total loss. The nightstand, with his book on top, was a pile of charred ruin.

Guy owned little in the way of personal possessions. Most of these were at Locksley Manor. His few clothes in the wardrobe had escaped the flames, as had his precious trunk of books.

It was not difficult to see that the fire had centered on the bed, and most likely had started with the bed curtains. Guy knew he had locked his door securely before retiring, and had blown out the candles by his bed. The fire was no accident. There was only one explanation.

The fire had been set, and by someone who had access to his room, someone who held the keys. That person had come, or ordered another, into his room while he slept, and attempted to burn him alive in his bed. Guy could think of only one person who would do it, only one who hated him enough to commit such an act of cowardice and treachery.

Sheriff Vaisey.

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The servants were busy the next morning cleaning out the room. Guy's clothing, though safe in the wardrobe, reeked of smoke and had to be aired. A bed from the guest quarters was moved in, and spread with new bedding. The broken door was taken down to be repaired. Guy decided against moving back in immedietely, and instead relocated to Locksley Manor. The daily trip to the castle would be a nuisance, but he felt it would be at least a little safer than sleeping down the hallway from Vaisey's room.

Vaisey met him later that morning, after Guy returned to retrieve his clothing and books. Guy saw him coming, and, amazed at his own self-control, reined in his rage. When the Sheriff reached him, his manner was calm, almost bland.

"Gizzy," said Vaisey pleasantly, "heard you had a spot of trouble last night. Did I hear correctly—a fire in your room?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Hmm, lucky you got out. Everything all right?"

"It will be, yes."

"Good, good." He wagged his head dolefully at Guy. "In future, my dear boy, I suggest you be a little more careful with those candles."

He smiled, and continued down the hall. Guy watched him, and smiled, too, but for a different reason. The decision was made right then and there. He could bear no more. The fire had been the last insult, and now Vaisey's doom was sealed.

All that day he played the scenes in his mind. Years of berating, mocking contempt from the Sheriff. The daily humiliations he had endured, the assignments he had carried out that so troubled his conscience, all this to gain what he wanted—power.

But had he achieved what he sought? The Black Knights were no more, Robin Hood and his gang still roamed freely in Sherwood, and Prince John was making all their lives miserable. He was no closer to lands, wealth, and power than he had ever been. And Marian was dead, killed by the Sheriff. Where was the justice for her, where the avenging of her murder?

That Vaisey was ready and willing to kill him he had no further doubt. The fire was no accident, of that he had no doubt, either. Could he kill the man? They had worked together for years. Vaisey had taken him under his wing, and had been like a father to him, or so he had once believed. But all that had changed. It had changed with Marian's death.


	10. Chapter 10 Like a Son to Me

"LIKE A SON TO ME"

Another banquet, this time for all the nobles and businessmen in Nottingham, was arranged two days later, for the evening. Prince John missed no opportunities to ingratiate himself, and secure his popularity, with the wealthy and powerful.

This presented yet another problem that rankled in Vaisey. The prince was an inveterate party boy, who needed only the flimsiest of excuses to throw a feast, complete with mountains of food, music, dancing, and entertainments of all sorts. The Sheriff seethed with resentment at the huge outlays of money, squeezed with such effort from the poor, that were required of him to finance these extravagant parties. But, he dared not refuse just the same.

One thing gave Vaisey reason to believe, however, that the revelry might be coming to an end, and he grasped at it as the proverbial last straw of hope.

"Much as I've enjoyed my stay," the prince told him that afternoon, "I need to get back to London. So I would appreciate it very much if you would settle this business involving Gisborne. I'm getting quite bored with it. Deal with him, tonight. Do it quietly. There's no point in disturbing our dinner guests. But do it."

Vaisey had no way of knowing that the prince had mouthed the same words to Guy earlier in the day.

The Sheriff paced the stony corridors of Nottingham Castle, searching for Gisborne. It seemed unlikely that he would avoid the banquet and risk the prince's displeasure, but Vaisey began to wonder if he had, indeed, done just that, and stayed away.

He searched every room and passageway in the castle, without success. The Great Hall, in the meantime, filled up with guests, and music and laughter drifted through the hallways. He was running out of time. His previous attempt to kill the man, which had seemed so foolproof, had failed, thanks to whatever wretched busy-body of a guard had sounded the alarm. He would ferret out the one responsible later and deal appropriately with him. This time, however, he could not, must not fail. But if this thing was to be done discreetly, he needed to finish the business before the feast commenced. He could not enlist the help of any more guards. Vaisey clenched his fists in frustration. Where was Gisborne?

He passed by the tiny chapel deep in the heart of the castle, and saw a light shining through the door that was slightly ajar. He went inside, and, to his surprise, saw Guy kneeling by the altar, looking up at the crucifix on the wall. It was the last place he expected to find the man. Guy was not particularly devout, and attended religious services but seldom. He himself never went inside, as he felt no need to relieve the conscience he didn't possess. As for those in religious orders, he paid them scant attention except to mock them.

"Gisborne," he said quietly, even as his hand reached for the hilt of his sword, "what are you doing in here?"

Guy turned slowly to him. He said nothing, only gave the Sheriff a long look from an unreadable face. Vaisey shrugged with seeming indifference, but Guy glanced down and saw the man's hand gripping his sword.

He sprang at him, sword already in hand, with a swiftness that took Vaisey completely unawares. The Sheriff had no time to draw his own weapon, and was only saved from instant death by grabbing a large and heavy candelabra and toppling it in front of Guy. It slowed him down long enough for Vaisey to arm himself. Their swords clashed noisily in the small room.

"Ha! So it's come to this, has it?" laughed the Sheriff as he fended off Guy's sword thrusts.

"It was you, wasn't it? You tried to burn me in my bed!"

"And you haven't been trying to kill me?"

"Not your way! I'd have met you in an open and fair fight!"

"Oh, yes, my boy. Such the gentleman you are, so honourable. That's your problem, Gisborne. You're too honest. You've no subtlety about you."

"Deceit, you mean? Backstabbing treachery?"

"Call it what you like. I prefer to think of it as survival skills. Your fine sensibilities are only going to get you killed, so I'll take my sneaky style over yours. The end justifies the means, didn't I always tell you that? But you wouldn't learn that lesson."

"You represent everything that's loathsome in a man!" Guy snarled at him, as they stumbled from the chapel and into the hallway.

"I thought that's why you liked me," answered the Sheriff as their swords crashed together.

"No! You poisoned everything! You ruined my life!"

"You ruined your own life. Don't try to blame me for your stupidity."

"I will be rid of you! It's time for you to pay. You have no idea how much pleasure it's going to give me to kill you!"

The two men fought their way down the hall, up a flight of stairs, and out through an archway that led onto the roof of the castle. The Sheriff resorted to another tactic as he blocked a slashing blow from Guy's sword.

"Did Prince John put you up to this? He's a tyrant, we both know that. And it's all a game to him. He pit us against each other for his own amusement! Unity, Gisborne. It's the only way we'll survive. We're a team, you and I—"

"Not anymore. This is not about him. This is from me. You murdered her, the woman I loved! You killed Marian!"

"Is that what all this is about? All this for a woman!"

Guy knocked the sword from his hand, shoved him against the tower wall, and punched him repeatedly.

"Gisborne, enough! Ow!" panted the Sheriff.

"You killed her!"

Vaisey kneed him in the groin, and smiled to see him double over with pain. He grabbed up his sword and swung at him. Guy ducked out of the way, but not before the Sheriff grazed his wrist.

"I was always fond of you, Gisborne. Not overly fond, but fond. I tried to teach you. But humanity has always been your weakness. I couldn't cure you of it, and now it's going to be your undoing."

He slowly backed Guy against the tower wall. They exchanged several more blows before Vaisey's sword was again knocked from his hand. Guy held his sword to the man's chest.

"I'm going to kill you, and watch the poison drain from your body," he hissed between clenched teeth.

"Gisborne, no!" pleaded the Sheriff dramatically. "Don't shame me. Don't do this, please!"

Guy hesitated, lowered his sword, and stared at the man so long his mentor and master. Vaisey saw his wavering, the uncertainty and conflict in his face, and knew he could manipulate the man, as he always had, to his advantage.

Keeping his imploring gaze on Guy to distract him, he stealthily pulled his knife from his belt, leapt forward, and stabbed him in the thigh. Guy cried out in agony and staggered back. The knife stuck in his leg. He pulled it out with another shout of pain, dropped it, then turned and limped up the stairs of the castle tower. After snatching up his knife, Vaisey followed him.

At the top they faced off again. This time Guy, hampered by his wound, had his sword struck from his hand. Backed against the low wall at the edge of the tower, with a hundred-foot drop behind him, he faced the Sheriff with desperate eyes.

"Gisborne, I loved you like a son," said the Sheriff cajolingly. "Did you love me like a father? I know you did once."

Guy clutched at his bleeding thigh. The Sheriff's words burned in his heart. He had been so certain when the fight began that he could kill the man. Now his thoughts were in tumultuous disarray.

"You killed Marian!" he shouted, as he tried to clear his mind from the Sheriff's control.

"You did, Gisborne. It's your fault that she's dead, my boy. You couldn't have her. She wanted Hood. You wanted to kill her for it, didn't you? But you didn't have the guts. You forced me to do what I did. I had to kill her for you."

"No, that's not true!"

Vaisey laughed cruelly. "Yes, it is, and you know it."

Rage welled up in Guy's heart, sweeping away the confusion. He turned his back on Vaisey and pretended to search for his fallen sword.

Vaisey saw his chance and lunged at him, intending to push him backward off the wall to his death. But Guy was ready. He twisted to one side, grabbed his arm, pulled his own knife from his belt, and stabbed Vaisey.

The Sheriff's eyes went wide with surprise, and then shock. He slid down on the stones, gasping, the knife still in his chest. He looked up at Guy.

"What have you done?"

"What I should have done long ago!"

"You were like a son to me…."

Vaisey's eyes slowly closed. He slumped over and was still.

Guy knelt over him, head bowed. The thing was done, and he felt no regret. Marian was avenged at last. But he felt no pleasure, either, as he had expected to, only a great desolation.

He left the body just as it was, with Vaisey's own knife still in his chest. The guards would find it sooner or later. He went back to his room, to clean and bind the wound in his thigh. Thankfully, it was not deep. The thick cloth and leather of his trousers had protected him. He tossed the bloodied garment to one side, and pulled on another pair. The wound stung and burned, but it would not do to hobble out in front of the prince or the other guests. He was a knight, trained to endure, if not ignore, pain.

He sat down on the edge of the window seat, and looked out at the darkness beyond. The sounds of the party in the Great Hall below reached him. Vaisey was dead, at his hands. No one but Prince John would ever know. It was to be their secret. It was time to tell him, and collect his promised reward.

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It was a very solemn, subdued man who joined Prince John at the banquet some time later. Guy sat down at the head of the table beside the prince, a dark thundercloud amidst the light, sparkling merriment all around him. Prince John was laughing loudly at some coarse joke told by one of the nobles. Guy took up his glass of wine in shaking hands and drank it down, refilled it, and drained it again.

"Gisborne, didn't expect to see you," said the prince, turning to him.

"Who were you expecting, sire? Sheriff Vaisey?"

He laid Vaisey's signet ring on the table. Prince John stared, mouth agape. He picked up the ring.

"He's—"

"Yes."

"Ah," said the prince, "you haven't disappointed me. How wonderful! Congratulations, Sir Guy!" He clapped him on the shoulder. "It seems you do have what it takes to be Sheriff. Get Hood for me, and you, my good man, will be the new Sheriff of Nottingham."

Guy bowed acknowledgement.

"Now," said Prince John, with a conspiratorial smile, "what was it like? Tell me all about it!"

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The next day, early in the morning, Prince John met with Guy privately.

"I've got some visits to make," he told Guy, "in York. You've dealt with Vaisey for me. Now I want to see how you deal with Robin Hood."

"I'll deal with him, sire, you have my word."

"Good. I'm leaving you in charge of Nottingham."

"As Sheriff, sire?"

"Hmm. No, maybe not yet. You haven't got Hood for me, after all. When you do, we'll talk. I'll be back in two weeks, Gisborne. That gives you plenty of time. I expect you to have dealt with him by then, or at the very least, to have made some sort of progress in that direction. Really, this situation has moved beyond ridiculous! How hard can it be to bring in one man?"

"Sire, it depends on who the man is. When it's Hood—"

"Oh, don't trouble me with excuses again! Just get him!"

"I will, sire."

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Before noon of the following day, Nottingham was abuzz with the news—Sheriff Vaisey was dead. Robin, Much, and Will, gone to Nottingham on a scouting trip, returned from the town later in the day to report back what they had heard to the others. They all met at Matilda's cottage that evening.

"Vaisey—dead?"

"That's the word in Nottingham."

"Is it true?"

"Who knows? We all heard a different story, from different people. No one seems to know the truth of the matter."

"I was told that his body was found, with his own knife in his chest, on the battlements of the castle."

"Who did it?"

"No one knows for sure. I heard that bit about a body being found, too, but then others said no one knows what became of it. Vaisey's corpse disappeared rather mysteriously, from what I heard."

"And someone in the tavern said that he saw the actual fight, on top of the castle, while Prince John's party was in full swing in the Great Hall. He swore he recognized Vaisey, in a swordfight with another man."

"How drunk was the person who told you this?"

"Very funny. He was telling everyone in the tavern, not just me."

"Did he recognize the other man?"

"No, but he said he was a tall man, dressed all in black."

"Gisborne?" said several voices at once.

Robin shook his head. "I'm sure it wasn't Gisborne."

"Maybe it was," said Allan.

"No, Allan, that makes no sense. Vaisey and Gisborne are partners. Why would Guy kill him? Besides, I'm sure he's not the only tall man in Nottingham who's not a colourful dresser. And we don't know for sure if the drunk in the tavern even saw what he says he did."

"I'll bet you anything it was Guy."

"Allan, see? That's how groundless rumours get started—"

"Before you dismiss that idea out of hand," offered Marian, "perhaps we should consider that it is possible."

"Possible, that Gisborne killed the Sheriff?"

"At the risk of having you lads jump all over me, I'll say this," Allan continued. "I spent months in the castle, with Guy. I saw firsthand how the Sheriff treated him. He was awful to Guy, believe me. He never missed a chance to yell at him and put him down. I don't believe Guy liked the Sheriff as much as you all think."

"Then why did he stay with him?"

"If I might say something more," said Marian, "I have to agree with Allan. I was there, too, as you all know, and saw what Allan saw. The Sheriff humiliated Guy every day. I asked him once, one of those times when I was trying to convince him to get away from Vaisey, why he stayed with him. He told me that he did it because he had no one—"

Robin snorted in disgust. "So he chose the Sheriff!"

"No, listen, Robin. He said to me that Vaisey was his path to power, to getting back what he had lost, his lands and title and everything else. That's why he worked for him. It was not out of any admiration for the man personally. I don't think it's out of the realms of possibility that he could have killed the Sheriff, especially if he's gotten on the good side of Prince John."

"Yeah, that's real smart. Trade one tyrant for another."

"It still doesn't answer the question of why, and why now, if he did it."

"Maybe he'd just had enough abuse from Vaisey."

"He doesn't mind abusing others though, does he?" said Will. "Look, what difference does it make who killed Vaisey, anyway? He's dead, and good riddance."

"We hope so. But, if he is dead, who's going to replace him as the new Sheriff? Someone else of Prince John's choosing?"

"Let's hope the new man isn't Gisborne."

"Sheriff Gisborne? Perish the thought!"


	11. Chapter 11 Dirty Double Crossings

DIRTY DOUBLE CROSSINGS

Prince John and his retinue of bodyguards and servants departed Nottingham Castle the next day, much to the relief of the overworked and harried staff. Guy was left to manage, and, before the first day was over, he was burning with resentment against Prince John. The prince had thrust upon him all the responsibilities of the office of Sheriff, but without the title, real authority, or perks of the job.

Guy had, of course, watched Vaisey carry out the appointment for years, but watching from the sidelines and actually being in charge were two different things, as he soon learned. He was accustomed to carrying out orders, or seconding orders to underlings, not being the one solely in command. It was neither as easy nor as enjoyable as he had envisioned, but nothing seemed to be anymore. He did not miss Vaisey, but he did miss the order, the routine, and the sense of purpose that the man had brought to his life.

One thing at least ceased during the first week of his new job—his sister's constant badgering. After the prince's departure, she quieted down and let him alone. He gave her one of the riding horses in the castle stables for her exclusive use, and when she wasn't at the castle, she was out for a ride around the environs of Nottingham. He always sent along a guard or two for her protection, as she still professed fear of her husband coming after her.

But, although the guards came back alone more often than not, while she chose to ride further and further from Nottingham's borders, and closer to the forest of Sherwood, he took no notice. He was too preoccupied with his new duties to puzzle much over his sister's comings and goings.

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Isabella knew she had made a favourable impression on Prince John, and she looked forward to his return. She had no love for the man, none at all, but he was the reigning monarch with his brother King Richard out of the country, and the one who could dispense favours and positions of power to those who pleased him. Isabella wanted power, and she, like her brother, saw him as the path to the fulfillment of her ambitions now that Vaisey was dead.

She found to her surprise, however, with the prince no longer there to receive her attention and flattery, that her mind and heart were increasingly turned toward Robin Hood. When she walked the streets of Nottingham on market day, she heard his name on the lips of the townspeople. She stopped, and strained to overhear what they were saying about him, whether good or bad. Complaints from wealthy merchants abounded, which was to be expected. But from the poor flowed only praise and gratitude.

As her curiosity grew, so did the length of her wanderings. She ventured out of the town and into the villages. Few people recognized her as Gisborne's sister, and she took great care to keep them in ignorance. Before long, she had learned a good many things about the man and the activities of his gang. One day, to her inquiries, an incautious young lad in Nettlestone let drop the day of the week when Robin and his men made regular visits to the village with food and supplies.

Mere curiosity about the man led to an urgent desire to see him again. The next week, after once again dismissing her guards, she waited in the meadow near Nettlestone, until she saw Robin, in company with Little John and Much. Her heart gave a leap. She rode toward him and called his name.

"Robin! Robin Hood!"

John and Much frowned at him.

"Gisborne's sister," muttered John. "Be careful, Robin, she's trouble."

"It's okay, John. You and Much, go on. I'll catch up with you."

John shook his head in disapproval as he and Much strode into the woods. Robin walked ahead toward Isabella.

"We meet again!" she said gaily as she dismounted. Robin forced a smile.

"Isabella," he said, "you're taking a risk, in case you don't know, in being seen with me."

"Don't worry, my brother's back at the castle, buried in paperwork," she replied. "He doesn't care what I do as long as I don't bother him."

"He would care if he knew you were with me. Why didn't you tell me and my men that you were Gisborne's sister? You lied to me when you said you'd never heard of him. And you didn't remember me, either."

"I'm sorry, Robin. It was all so long ago, in Locksley. I was so young. I hardly remembered your name. I didn't know how things stood between you and Guy, so I thought it best to keep my relationship to him secret."

Robin nodded. "Okay, fair enough. But it's different now. Vaisey's dead, or so we heard, and your brother is apparently in charge for now. Do you know who killed him?"

"No. Really, I'm being truthful. I don't."

"But your brother is all set to become Sheriff, right?"

When she didn't answer, he added, "After he kills me, I assume."

"Robin, he may be my brother, but I have no great loyalty to him. I came here to find protection from my husband." She told him the story.

"Guy sold you?"

"When I was fourteen. He's selfish, Robin. All he thinks about is himself. Thornton offered him money for me, and he took it, and arranged my marriage to that beast, just to get rid of me. He knew what Thornton was like, but he didn't care as long as he got his money. He doesn't care one bit how much I suffered. He told me so, right to my face!"

"So why did you come here, to him, then?"

"I had nowhere else to go! I needed help."

She looked up at him and smiled shyly. "I would rather have taken the help from you."

He chuckled. "I doubt your brother would feel the same."

"Robin, I'm not my brother. I have no wish to be like him, in any way. I have no love for him, believe me."

"Well, at least in that we agree," he said. "Listen, Isabella, I have to go."

"Yes, I know. You have a job to do, helping the poor. I've heard. People talk about you everywhere, with admiration. I envy you that."

"I'm an outlaw, Isabella. Don't envy me."

"Will I see you again?"

"Perhaps."

"That's the best answer you can give me?"

He looked down.

"You don't trust me. You think I'm going to run back to Guy and tell him everything you've said. Robin, I—"

"Maybe we'll meet again. That's all I can promise. But you need to be more careful."

She remounted her horse. "I'll see you around," she said, laughing. She turned her horse and cantered off. Robin watched her go before following his men back into the forest. He caught up with John and Much.

"Does she know you're a married man?" asked Much sarcastically.

"By that do you mean did I tell her about Marian? Of course not! What do you think I am, completely stupid? What if Gisborne coerced that information out of her?"

"All right! You don't have to get so huffy about it!"

"She might just offer it to him willingly," suggested John.

"No, she's not like that."

"How do you know? You don't know what she's capable of. I wouldn't trust her."

"Well, it doesn't matter. We're not likely going to run into her again, anyway."

But Robin was mistaken. Several times in the week that followed, they met up again with Isabella, always on horseback and alone.

"That woman's got a crush on you," Allan told Robin after one of their encounters.

"Don't be ridiculous," Robin scoffed. "We knew each other as children. She's probably just lonely and looking for friends."

"Yeah, right," answered Will, "and if you believe that, Guy would love to be your pal, too."

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One afternoon, Guy was either less busy, or more observant, than usual. He spotted the two men he had sent off with Isabella that morning, lounging outside and chatting with the sentry on duty.

"Where is my sister?" he asked them. "Did she go back to Locksley Manor?"

The guards looked at each other uneasily.

"She, well, sir, she dismissed us."

"What?"

"She dismissed us, sir, said she didn't need us to follow her, and told us to go back to the castle."

"And you let her?"

The man quailed at the anger in Guy's voice. "Sir, my apologies, but she insisted. She assured us it was okay with you. We had no reason not to believe her."

"How many times has this happened?"

"Pretty much every time, sir," the poor guard answered in a meek voice.

Guy turned from them and stalked back into the castle without any further reprimand, or worse, to the guard's relief. He stormed down the passageway to Isabella's room, and pounded hard on the door.

"Isabella! Are you in there? We need to talk, now!"

She opened the door. "Yes, I'm here. What is it? I'm getting ready for dinner."

"I've just been informed that you've been going off by yourself, after sending my men away. You told me you were afraid of your husband finding you. Would you care to explain yourself?"

"Guy," she smiled winsomely up at him, "what's all this fuss about? I just wanted to be alone for a while, is that so terrible? I never have a minute to myself around here, with all the soldiers and servants everywhere I turn. I was perfectly safe. I stayed near Nottingham all the time."

"You never went into Sherwood, or any of the villages?"

"No, never. Why would I?"

"Isabella, tell me. You haven't had any more dealings with Hood, have you?"

"Of course not! He's an outlaw. I told you, the first time was a mistake. Now that I know, I'd never have anything more to do with him."

"I must have your word, your promise on this."

"You do. Guy, I want to win your trust. You're my brother! I'd never do anything to betray that."

He relaxed. "All right, I believe you. I was just worried."

"And I love you for it. But I'm fine, don't worry."

She reached up and kissed his cheek. He took her arm, and they went down to dinner together.

The following day, Isabella met up with Robin again, just outside Locksley. This time Robin became convinced that her motives were purely friendly ones. She spoke repeatedly of her intense dislike for her brother, and her wish to have nothing to do with his schemes. Robin's men remained skeptical, but Robin, moved by her disarming sweetness, and, though he wouldn't admit it even to himself, her beauty, listened to her tales of woe with a sympathetic ear.

"Maybe," she said before she left, "I can help you sometime. I know what goes on in the castle, after all."

"Another Marian, perhaps," he told his men later that evening around the campfire. "An inside spy. She might be useful to us."

"Don't count on it," grumbled John, but Robin didn't hear. He was already counting on it.

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Some sixth sense warned Guy, as he watched his sister ride off yet again the next morning, that all was not as it appeared. For some time he paced the floor, arms crossed and brows drawn together in thought. He wanted to trust her, but he was finding it increasingly difficult. Her answers to his inquiries about her daily rides were a tad too glib and rehearsed. Something felt wrong to him.

The following day, as she set off early, he determined to follow her. He trailed her a distance away, safely out of sight. Shortly into the ride, she dismissed her guards, and they turned back toward Nottingham. She continued riding toward Locksley, which did not alarm him at first, as she might be simply stopping at the manor. But then she veered off, toward Sherwood. He watched her enter the woods. Tying his horse, he continued on foot, using the trees as cover. He halted, his body tingling in shock, at the edge of a clearing just inside the forest.

His sister stood there, in close consultation with none other than Robin Hood. He was too far away to understand them, but there was no doubt the meeting was a friendly one, judging by the way they were looking at each other. They talked at length before parting. Robin melted back into the forest, and Isabella remounted her horse and rode toward Nottingham.

Guy got there before her, as he rode to the castle at a fast and furious gallop. He was waiting for her, his face flushed with rage, when she entered the Great Hall. He grabbed her arm and propelled her down the hallway and into his room.

"Isabella, I trusted you! What were you doing?" he cried at her as he shook her roughly.

"Guy, stop it! You're hurting me!"

"You deserve it, you traitorous little liar! I saw you with Hood! You were meeting up with him!"

"You followed me?"

"Yes, and it's a good thing, too. You lied to me! How long has this been going on? Tell me!"

"Stop hurting me and I'll tell you! Let go of me!"

He released her.

"Guy, it's not what you think."

"Oh, really?"

"Listen to me. Yes, okay, so I lied. I have talked to him. Only once, besides today. The first time we met was by accident, while I was riding near Nottingham. I only stopped to thank him for the assistance he gave me the day he rescued me from my husband's men. Surely you don't begrudge me that!"

"And today?"

"Winning his trust, brother dear."

"What do you mean?"

"You want to catch him, right? So you can be Sheriff?"

She looked up at his face, which was brimming with suspicion and mistrust, and smiled conspiratorally.

"Guy, I can help you. Robin will tell me things, if I win his trust and get him to let his guard down."

"I thought you liked him. You acted like you did."

"Of course, to throw him off. So he helped me once. So what? He wouldn't have, I'm sure, if he'd known then that I was your sister. I owe him nothing. My loyalty is here, with you."

He smirked down at her. "So, what do you get out of this?"

She smiled. "What are you offering?"

"What do you want?"

"How about this, a share in the power when you're the Sheriff."

"How big a share?"

"A little will do."

"All right. Find a way for me to get my hands on him, and we'll make a deal."

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"You're not meeting up with her again today, are you, Robin?" Allan asked the next morning, as the gang prepared for the day's food drop-offs.

"Yes, Allan, I am. She told me yesterday she could help us. She's got some information for me—"

"Robin, open your eyes! She's Gisborne's sister!" said John.

"And that means what? She can't help it if that scumbag is her brother, can she? She's promised to help us. It's dangerous, but she wants to give us his plans. This could be just what we need, lads."

"Does Marian know what you're up to, slipping off to rendezvous with a beautiful woman?"

"Come on, Much."

"Robin, perhaps you should reconsider," Tuck broke in. "I'm not feeling comfortable with this business, either. She's got everything to lose, and little to gain, by helping us."

"Well, maybe that's not her motive. I've seen her, in Locksley, giving out of her own money to help people. She hates the injustice she sees here as much as we do, I'm sure of it."

"At least let one of us come with you, if you're so determined to go," insisted Much.

"I'll be fine. I'll be back soon. You all have deliveries to make today in Clun. We'll meet back here in a few hours."

He disappeared into the woods with a smile and a wave. The other outlaws looked from one to another.

"So," said Much, "which one of us is going to follow him?"

"No one, Much. Robin's a big boy, he can look after himself. Right now there are hungry people counting on us in Clun."

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Isabella was waiting for him, as arranged, at the back of the stable in Nettlestone.

"Come, Robin, quickly!" she whispered. "I've so much to tell you!"

He smiled and moved toward her. Without warning, a cloth around his eyes blinded him, as three pairs of hands grabbed him at once and pulled him into the stable. A fourth pair stifled his yelp of surprise. He put up a valiant struggle, but in vain. His hands were bound behind him by one man, while another divested him of his weapons. When the cloth was pulled off his eyes, Isabella was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he found himself looking into Gisborne's glacial blue eyes, before he doubled up in agony as the man's fist punched him in the gut. He sank to the floor as consciousness left him


	12. Chapter 12 Robin Takes a Swimming Lesson

ROBIN TAKES A SWIMMING LESSON

When Robin came to, he was hanging face-down over a saddle. Between the ache in his middle from Gisborne's vicious punch, and the uncomfortable position he found himself in, it was a struggle just to breathe. He lifted his head as far as he could.

"Gisborne!" he gasped. "Where are you? Where are you taking me?"

The bottom half of a black horse, and a strong leg encased in a tall, black leather boot, came into his limited view. The deep, grim voice sounded over his head.

"To hell, Robin Hood. Where you belong."

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Robin scoured every inch of the cell walls and the iron bars of the door, searching for a way to escape. He found none. Resigned, he sat back down, stared at the wall, and cursed his own stupidity.

_My men told me, they did, and I didn't listen. Serves me right that I'm stuck in here. I'll never hear the end of it from Marian this time. I can only hope one of the lads disobeyed and followed me, and saw what happened, before Prince John gets back and Gisborne does to me whatever he's got planned. Heaven knows what that might be. And Isabella. They were right about her. She's a treacherous little snake in the grass. Like brother, like sister._

The dungeon doors opened, to admit the tall, menacing figure of Gisborne, followed by his guards. Robin stood up and squared his shoulders. At least the man should see no defeat in his attitude. The guards stepped forward, unlocked the cell door, and brought Robin out. He put up as much resistance as he could without provoking another strike. They held him firmly in front of Gisborne, on whose face was a wolfish smile of pleasure.

"Prince John has just returned," he informed Robin. "That means your time is up."

"How lucky for you," said Robin. "Congratulations. You get to be his boot-licker once again."

Guy gave a short laugh. "You can put the bold face to it all you want. You're still going to die. Slowly, and painfully, I would expect. Meanwhile, I get to be Sheriff. Oh, yes, life is sweet."

"And Isabella? What's her reward for being your Judas? More of your abuse? Who are you planning to sell her to now?"

"She betrayed you willingly enough. I must assume by your remark that she's told you stories about how I sold her to Thornton. If you believe her lies, you're far too trusting."

"Are you saying you didn't do it?"

"Not the way she tells it."

Robin shook his head. "Well, one of you is a liar, that much is clear."

The smug expression vanished from Guy's face, to be replaced by a fierce scowl.

"Believe whatever you like, Hood, but I'm not the liar!"

Robin looked long and hard at him, and the truth came to him, in a sudden flash of insight. Guy was nothing like his sister at all. Compared to her, the man was an open book. He always had been. He was straightforward, direct, and, in most respects, honest. He was many things that Robin detested, but he was not deceitful.

_Why did I not see it before?_ thought Robin. _After all the times I've prided myself on being a good judge of character, I missed this one. I wonder now at any of the stories Isabella told me about Guy's treatment of her—were they all nothing but a pack of lies?_

"I'll tell you the truth right now," Guy continued. "You should have killed me when you had the chance. Now I'm going to make you suffer before you die."

Behind the brutal words, the anguish in his eyes was clear. Robin well knew the reason for his torment. Guy still thought Marian was dead, and that belief was tearing him apart inside. Robin could almost have pitied him.

"Like you're suffering, Gisborne?" he said quietly. "You know, you can kill me if you want, a thousand times over, but the pain you're feeling now, the shame, the self-loathing, it's never going away. Killing me isn't going to change that."

He had shot his last arrow, and now he faced Guy with a steady gaze devoid of fear.

Robin's words stung Guy to the depths of his soul. To think that his enemy could read his thoughts, and his heart, so easily! He felt suddenly naked, stripped bare of the façade of arrogant self-assurance he had clothed himself in. Naked and vulnerable. The sensation infuriated him. He drew back his fist and hit Robin again, hard.

Robin took the hit, but quickly straightened up. Guy stared back at him wordlessly for a long time before he looked away. He motioned to one of the guards. A few whispered words passed between the two. Robin made out only "yes, you heard me right", before Guy curtly ordered them, "Take him away."

As the guards led Robin from the dungeon, he called to Guy over his shoulder.

"You can kill me, Gisborne, but you'll never hate me as much as you hate yourself!"

The men returned a few moments later. "It's done, Sir Guy."

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Robin sputtered and coughed. The water was so cold it hurt to breathe.

_Easy, Robin_, he told himself. _Don't panic, think! There must be a way out. There's always a way out._

Furiously treading water, as much to stay warm as to stay afloat, he looked over the walls of the well carefully, and searched for handholds, however small. He tried one, only to find it too slippery to grasp. The icy water made it difficult to move or think.

_I've got to get out of here quick_, he thought,_ or I'll drown._ He pictured Gisborne's gloating face looking down at his dead body floating in the well, and his mouth set in a hard and determined line._ No, I can't let him have that victory. I can't put Marian or my friends through that grief. I haven't come this far to let him win now._

He felt a new strength surge through him. Fingering the stones afresh, he tested his weight on one before he pulled himself up, inch by inch.

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"It's done, sire," said Guy in a low voice as he seated himself beside Prince John at the banquet table in the Great Hall.

"Done? Do you mean—Robin Hood?"

"Yes, sire."

"He's dead?'

"Taken care of, my lord."

Prince John rolled his eyes. "Now, don't go all enigmatic on me, Gisborne! Tell me once and for all, is he dead?"

"Yes, sire."

The prince sat back, a wide, pleased smile on his face. "Delightful news! My gratitude, Sir Guy! This is a happy day for all of us! Robin Hood, at last brought to justice!"

Guy was not smiling, however. "Sire, you told me if I accomplished this for you—"

"Of course. And I mean to fulfill our bargain. Don't be so impatient, my good man. You will be Sheriff as soon as I see Hood's corpse. Where is he?"

"In the well, sire."

"Not the same well I get my bath water from, I hope!"

"No, my lord, another well, here in the castle. Only used for the servants."

"Good. No harm done, then."

He motioned over and whispered to one of his bodyguards, who reappeared a moment later, carrying the heavy bundle of keys that unlocked every door and gate in Nottingham castle. Prince John tossed them, rather off-handedly, to Guy.

"There you go. Keys to Nottingham."

Guy took them, and looked back at the prince, expecting more—some kind of ceremony, recognition, anything.

"I'll announce you as the new Sheriff as soon as I see the body."

"Do you want to go now, sire?"

"Now? Oh, no. Robin Hood can wait. It's not like he's going anywhere, is it? No, I want to finish my supper first. Patience, my friend. And enjoy yourself! Really, Gisborne, you're far too serious. I may have to take you back to London with me for a while so you can learn to relax and enjoy the pleasures of life! Speaking of which, what was it like to kill Robin Hood? Do tell me—did he squeal? Or beg for mercy?"

Guy managed a wan smile to the prince's boisterous laughter, but was spared answering him. The man turned back to his meal and drink, leaving Guy to reflect on his achievement. Robin's parting words echoed in his mind, "you'll never hate me as much as you hate yourself." The words burned deep in his heart, and all the more painfully, because he knew Robin was right. For all that he hated him, his enemy had seen the truth in him.

Had Robin escaped, or was he already dead? Guy had no way of knowing. He knew only one thing as he stared down at the keys in his hand, the symbol of the power he had long sought. How often he had dreamed of this moment, and now that it had come, instead of elation, he felt only a great emptiness. His victory had turned to ash in his mouth.

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Robin shivered violently, and his teeth chattered. Several times he slipped and plunged back into the frigid water. But he kept climbing, focusing his thoughts on Marian instead of his cramping muscles. Finally, he reached the mouth of the well. An iron grate lay over it.

_Please, God_, he prayed,_ don't let it be locked down, or too heavy for me to budge._

He gripped the tiny crevices in the stones with the numbed fingers of one hand, and the toes of his sopping wet boots, and pushed at the grate with his free hand. To his relief, it was not locked in place, or as heavy as it looked. He smiled. Evidently neither Gisborne nor his minions had believed him capable of escaping his watery grave. He slid the grate to one side, but not far enough for it to fall to the floor and draw the attention of any guards.

Slowly he pulled himself up and out of the well, and sat on the floor, panting for breath. He heard someone coming, reached instinctively for his weapons, only to be reminded that he no longer had any, and sighed. Now what to do?

The footsteps drew nearer, but they were not the heavy stomp of guard's boots.

"Robin!"

It was Isabella. Almost as unwelcome a sight as her brother.

"Robin, are you okay?"

"Silly question," he snapped, "since it was you who got me thrown in there!"

"No, no!" she cried as she helped him to his feet. "Robin, it wasn't my fault! You must believe me!"

"Not your fault? I must believe you? I don't think so."

"No, truly, it wasn't. My brother, he tricked me, Robin. He lied to me to get me to tell him where I was meeting you. I'm sorry, but he frightens me so, you have no idea. He threatened to hurt me if I didn't tell him."

Robin looked into her eyes, her wide, guileless eyes. He wanted to trust her, longed to believe her, but his mind cried out a strong caution. She had proved deceitful before. At this point he was more willing to trust Gisborne than her.

"Robin," she said, as she moved her hands to his shoulders, "please, believe me. I-I care for you—"

"Isabella, no." He removed her hands gently but firmly.

"Yes! Yes, Robin, this was meant to be, can't you see that? I knew the first time I met you, when you rescued me from my husband's men. We were meant to be together!"

"Isabella—"

"Think of it, Robin. You and I, we can rule Nottingham together. Sheriff Vaisey is dead. Help me get rid of my beast of a husband. Kill him for me. He deserves it many times over. And kill that louse of a brother of mine. Prince John will make me Sheriff then. And, I'll share it with you. Look, I came to get you out when I heard that Guy had thrown you in here! I stole your bow from my brother's room. And a sword, for each of us, in case we needed them."

"I'm grateful, especially for my bow. But, I'm an outlaw, or have you forgotten? No, I cannot be Sheriff, ever, even if I wanted to."

"But you can! I can speak to Prince John in your behalf. He'll listen to me. I'll get you a pardon, and—"

"No, Isabella. I have a mission already, to help the poor of Nottingham. I won't work with or for those who would oppress the people."

"If you and I were Sheriff, think of the good we could do. You could help those people, Robin. That's what I want to do, to set Nottingham free. If Guy is Sheriff those same people will only suffer more. Help me to stop him! Robin, I love you!"

Robin looked down. "You don't know what you're saying."

"Yes, I do. I love you. Please tell me you love me, too."

She flung her arms around his neck and pulled him close.

_The gang warned me,_ he thought. _They saw how she felt about me. I should have listened to them. Now it's come to this. I can't tell her about Marian. What if her brother were to force that information out of her?_

As gently as he could, he again disengaged her hands from him.

"No. I'm sorry, I truly am, if anything I've said or done has given you reason to think I return your feelings. But I don't. I care about you, I really do, but my place is here, helping people as I always have. I can't be with you, Isabella."

If he had expected her to take his rejection calmly, reasonably, the expression on her face soon told him otherwise.

Her eyes filled with tears, but they were angry tears, the tears of a scorned woman. He braced himself, but before she could speak again, the thud of advancing footsteps, and deep male voices, reached them. Robin heard the ominously heavy tread, the click of spurs. It was a sound he knew all too well. He picked up the sword Isabella had brought, and gripped the hilt.


	13. Chapter 13 Gisborne, You're Fired!

"GISBORNE, YOU'RE FIRED!"

"Come, Sir Guy, lead me to him! I want to see him, floating face-down, and then we'll go back and I'll announce you as Sheriff! Good excuse for another big party, don't you think?" The prince gave Guy a comradely slap on the back.

They rounded the corner and entered the room off the castle kitchen, where the well was located.

Standing outside the well, dripping wet but unharmed, was Robin. And beside him, clutching his arm, was Isabella.

Prince John turned to Guy. "What is this?" he demanded.

"Sire," Guy began uncertainly. "I-I don't know."

"Don't know?" His voice rose to a petulant whine. "Dead, you said! Taken care of, you said!"

"Sire, I can explain—"

"No, I don't think you can! You assured me that Robin Hood was dead, and yet, here he is, alive and well. I should have listened to Vaisey. He warned me about you!"

"Sire, let me make it right—"

"And Isabella!" He ignored Guy and pointed a finger at her instead. "Helping him escape, were you? You've betrayed me!"

She looked from the prince to Robin and back again, and made her choice.

"No, sire! You know where my loyalties lie! And not with him, this outlaw, this criminal."

"Isabella!" Robin exclaimed.

"Save it for someone who cares!" she spat at Robin. She ran to the prince's side. Robin stood confusedly looking from one to another. Guy looked only slightly less perplexed.

But Isabella wasn't finished with her treacherous revenge.

"This one," she gestured at Guy, "he knew Robin would escape. He let him escape, sire. He didn't post any guards, did he? The cover of the well wasn't even locked down! He lied to you. He's been lying to you all along!"

"No, sire, that's not true!" Guy asserted as he shot a furious glance at his sister, but Prince John cut him off.

"Enough! All of you, shut up! Robin Hood, you're under arrest. Isabella, you're, well, I'm not sure about you yet. We'll discuss it later. But you, Sir Guy, you've let me down. You've let the team down. In fact, you're a liability. Gisborne, you're fired!"

Guy, who had possessed the keys of Nottingham and held office as Sheriff for all of fifteen minutes, erupted in a towering rage.

"No!" he shouted, his lips drawn back, his eyes blazing. "You will not fire me! I've waited all my life for this, and you will not take it from me!"

"I just did, Gisborne."

Guy drew his sword and pointed it at the prince.

"How dare you threaten a monarch!" cried Prince John, as he drew himself up haughtily.

"You're no monarch!" Gisborne sneered at him, thrusting the sword dangerously close to Prince John's chest. "You're a pretender, a fake, a fraud!"

"How dare you!" Prince John shouted again, trying to sound stalwart, but all the while backing nervously away from Gisborne. "You'll pay for this. Your days as a free man are over!"

"Leave him alone, Guy!" screamed Isabella, as she took up her own sword to defend Prince John.

"I'll deal with you, too, you traitorous little—"

All four faced off. Guy swung at the prince, who deflected the blow. Isabella charged in, only to be thrust aside by Robin. Robin fought her, then the prince, then Guy in turn.

_What side am I on?_ Robin asked himself as he exchanged blows with Gisborne._ My own, I guess. This is getting weirder by the minute. I think I'll get out of here as quick as I can and let these three battle it out themselves._

Guy left off attacking him to go after Isabella again. Robin and the prince watched Guy knock her sword from her hand and chase her around the well until he had her trapped, his sword at her throat.

"I should kill you for this!" he snarled at her.

"Go ahead!" she answered. "You're so good at killing defenseless women."

"Another lie, and you know it!" he shouted at her as he pushed her backward into the well.

She fell into the water with a piercing scream of fright and anger. Robin started toward the well, and stopped himself. She was better off down there, out of harm's way for the moment, but unable to do any more harm herself. Now, what to do with the prince?

It was then that Robin saw what Guy was doing next—slowly maneuvering the prince toward the open mouth of the well. He smiled to himself. _Might as well help him_, he thought. He moved forward and joined Guy in pointing his sword at Prince John, who was now looking from one man to the other in a panic.

"You'll both pay for this!"

It was the last thing he said before Robin and Guy in the same motion lunged at him. He stumbled back and over the rim of the well, to join the shrieking Isabella in the cold water.

The unwitting co-conspirators stood side by side, and gazed down together into the well, enjoying the sight. But with the two drenched and shivering swimmers raising such a ruckus, they knew it wouldn't be long before guards came on the scene. Time to leave.

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Both men raced up the narrow passageway toward the Great Hall. It was empty. They halted, and looked at each other. Guy raised his sword defensively, but Robin just shook his head.

"Gisborne, I hope you're not looking for another fight. I've had about enough for one day. Let's call it good for now, okay?"

Guy shrugged, and lowered his sword. "So, no fight. Okay. Now what happens?"

"I suggest we both get out of here."

"Which way are you going?"

"I don't know! Out of here! Where are you going?"

"Whichever way you're not!"

Robin laughed. "What do you want to do, flip a coin? Listen, we're both in a lot of trouble if we don't clear out, and to tell you the truth, I think you're in more deep %*#& than I am right now. What were you thinking back there, anyway?"

"I only told that bastard the truth."

"I'll admit, it sure was honest. Now, be just as honest with me. Was your sister right? Did you let me escape? You didn't post any guards, or even tie my hands or feet so I couldn't swim. I'm curious as to why. You must have known I was going to get myself out of that well."

Guy looked down. When he met Robin's eyes again, there was a little smile on his face. Almost an embarrassed smile, like that of a small boy caught in some mischief. Robin found himself smiling back.

"Let me put it this way," Guy said to him. "When I saw you out of the well, I really wasn't all that surprised."

There was a note of grudging admiration in his voice as he added, "You always did manage to get out of every trap I ever laid for you."

Both men stood watching each other.

"Gisborne, you're in big trouble with the prince, you do know that, don't you?" Robin said, after a moment's silence.

"Of course I do."

"You're an outlaw now, no different than me. What are you going to do?"

Guy threw back his head and sneered. "Why? Do you care?"

"Maybe."

Robin did not know what possessed him to say it, instead of a firm "No!" It certainly was not the answer Guy expected from him. The sneer faded. He looked back at Robin, searching his face. For just a fleeting moment, Robin saw his defenses lower. Deep loneliness and grief looked out from the intense eyes—a yearning, a plea for help and friendship, as if the man were reaching out to him from across the chasm that separated them.

_He's a dead man now, and he knows it,_ thought Robin._ Everything he ever valued, everything he dreamed of, everything he wanted, he just threw away with both hands. He sealed his own doom when he pushed the prince down the well. If he hadn't just tried to drown me, I could pity him._

As the sound of approaching guards reached them, Guy's familiar scowl reappeared. He gestured toward the north exit of the room.

"I'm going that way," he told Robin gruffly. "You can go any way you like, just don't follow me."

Robin watched his retreating back.

"Good luck, Gisborne," he said under his breath. "You're going to need it."

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Robin made his way out of the castle undetected, got out of Nottingham under cover of darkness, and reached the outlaw camp early the next morning, to meet up with a very concerned group of friends, and his wife. They were on the verge of setting out to find him when he arrived. He told them the story.

"You were right about Isabella, all of you," he admitted. "I'm sorry I didn't listen."

"It's okay, Robin, so long as you're safe," said Much.

"Gisborne's made himself an outlaw? How strange is that!" said Allan. "What'll happen to him now, I wonder?"

No one could answer his question. But Robin couldn't get the matter out of his mind, even as he slipped into bed beside a very relieved wife later that evening.

"Robin, you really are too much," Marian scolded. "I was worried sick when they told me you hadn't come back from your meeting with Isabella, and now I find out I had good reason. Guy tried to drown you?"

"For the second time. Don't forget the time he threw me into the river." He chuckled. "Must be payback for the time I threatened to drown him in that barrel of water in Locksley, after I set that ridiculous suit of armour of his on fire. Until you rushed to his rescue."

"You can make a joke of it, but I don't think it's funny."

"Marian, I'm fine. Got myself out, didn't I?"

He related to her again the story of his cooperation with Guy at the well.

"It was the strangest thing, Marian. The man tried to drown me, sort of—"

"What do you mean, sort of?"

"I think he let me escape, or at least gave me the chance to. He wouldn't admit to it, but he smiled when I asked him. He didn't deny it. Anyway, we pushed Isabella and Prince John into the well, and ran back up the hall, together no less. We even had a conversation of sorts."

"About what?"

"More like an argument at first, about which direction to take." He told her the gist of the exchange.

"I swear, if I didn't know better, I'd have thought he was almost friendly to me for a moment. And there was something in the way he looked at me, like he was asking for help. I thought about offering it."

"Why didn't you?"

"Do you think I should have? Part of me pities him. But another part of me says he'll get what he deserves."

"Robin, have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe, Guy might be sorry for the things he's done?"

"We are talking about the same Guy here, aren't we?"

"I just think that maybe he is sorry. I saw another side to him, before the mission to the Holy Land. I know there's good in him even now. But he's gone so far in the wrong direction, perhaps he can't find his way back without help."

She said no more, but her words haunted Robin and kept him awake long after Marian had fallen asleep, as did the memory of the loneliness and despair looking out at him from the eyes of his enemy.


	14. Chapter 14 Sisterly Love? A Clue? No!

SISTERLY LOVE? A CLUE—NO!

"I wish I knew for sure where Gisborne's hiding out," said Much, as the outlaws prepared a load of supplies for Nettlestone.

"Who cares?" said Will.

"I care!" Much replied. "I'd hate to come upon him unawares in some dark glade in Sherwood."

Djaq laughed. "Poor Much! Come with me, then. I'll watch your back for you."

"You can all laugh if you want to, but I'd sleep better at night if I knew where he was camped."

"Maybe he's left the area altogether," suggested Tuck. "It's doubtful that he's in Sherwood. He knows we're out here, after all."

"Maybe he went back to France," Allan said.

"He's not Sheriff Gisborne, praise be to heaven," said John. "That's all I care about. He's tumbled down off his throne and into the dirt, where he belongs."

Marian sat on a stump and watched the others pack their bags with food for the villagers. Robin sat down beside her.

"You're quiet, love," he said.

"I was thinking about Guy, too."

"I'm guessing that your thoughts are a tad more sympathetic, am I right?"

"Perhaps. It is strange to think that he's an outlaw now, with a price on his head."

"Almost as big a price as on my head, Marian. Prince John has offered five hundred crowns to whoever brings him in."

"Don't tempt me!" laughed Will. "For that price, I'd turn myself in. Can I collect a reward on myself, I wonder?"

But Marian wouldn't join in the laughter that followed.

"We've got each other," she said softly, for Robin's ears only. "We're a family. We support and look after each other. But who does Guy have? He's out there, somewhere, by himself. He must be so scared right now. And so very alone."

Robin wanted to reply, "it's his own fault", but he stopped himself. Marian had always had a soft spot in her heart for Guy, he recollected. Even after the horror in Acre, she had, on numerous occasions, been the quiet voice of compassion while he or the others were consigning Gisborne to all manner of painful and degrading last moments.

He now found himself wondering—had there been real caring, or even love, between his wife and Guy in the past? Not that it mattered now. They were married. Her heart was all his, of that he was certain.

But Guy believed her to be dead. He thought back on the brutal fight by the river in Locksley, when Guy had nearly killed him. He remembered the words "you took her from me!" and the terrible pain in the man's eyes. Was that how Guy truly saw it, that he, Robin, was the real thief of Marian's heart, and the reason for her supposed death? If that were true, he could understand the man's hatred of him.

He smiled to himself as he recalled the strange, almost surreal, encounter in the Great Hall, after he had helped Guy push the prince into the well. For just a moment they had fought on the same side, against a common enemy. It brought back to his mind the days right after his return, before he became an outlaw. He had ranted at Marian after his first run-in with the Sheriff and Gisborne.

"Robin, I know you dislike Guy. But there's good in him. Make a friend of him, not an enemy," Marian had urged him. "You're really not so different, you know. You were friends once, long ago. Help him, Robin. Get him away from Vaisey."

But Marian's words had gone unheeded. The dislike between himself and Guy had turned into hatred after Robin became an outlaw, and over the following months and years their lives had taken very different paths. He had become the people's hero, the admired and loved champion of the poor and oppressed inhabitants of Nottinghamshire. And Guy, the hated and feared bully boy of Sheriff Vaisey.

_Two sides of the same coin_, thought Robin. _We could each have been in the other's place, if at any time we had made different decisions along the way._

He shouldered his pack, kissed Marian, and set off with his men for Nettlestone. His work for the day was to help relieve the suffering of the villagers. But his mind was not on the mission that day. His thoughts came back repeatedly to Guy—where he might be, and what would become of him. By the end of the day, as the outlaws and Marian gathered to enjoy a meal with Matilda, one thought above all others occupied his mind.

He no longer hated Guy. He felt many things for the man still—anger, frustration, and even pity. Pity for a life, now in ruins, that could have been lived for a nobler purpose, if he had made better choices.

But his deep animosity toward the man had, in some way, burned itself out. The demise of his hate had begun in that moment of revelation in the Great Hall, when Guy had let Robin, willingly or no, see into his heart.

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Guy was actually closer to home than any of them imagined. In fact, he was right on their doorstep. After his escape from Nottingham Castle, he took what he could carry from Locksley Manor, and disappeared into Sherwood Forest.

_If Hood and his men can survive out here, so can I_, he told himself. But he hadn't taken into consideration the fact that Robin and the other outlaws had the villagers on their side, and a well-established network of friends to help them obtain food and supplies. They had a camp, rough though it was, for shelter and warmth. Djaq, Tuck, and their friend Matilda all had some training in the healing arts, when any of them were sick or injured. More importantly, they had each other, for friendship, support, and mutual help.

Friendless, alone, ill-supplied and ill-prepared, Guy, within a few days, was cold, dirty, miserable, and starved for both food and companionship. Also, he was quite lost.

After wandering for hours in a steady and chilly rain one afternoon, in search of game to fill his empty stomach, he became slowly aware that his surroundings no longer looked familiar. The landmarks that had guided him through Sherwood even as a child were nowhere in sight. He fought the rising panic that was robbing him of his ability to think clearly, and decided to give up for the night. He lay down under some low-hanging branches and tried to sleep. But his clothes were soaked through, the rain continued unabated, and his dinner, a few handfuls of shriveled berries gleaned from nearby bushes, had only made him feel more hungry.

The tears came. They spilled down his cheeks, to mingle with the rivulets of rain. He hated himself for what he saw as his weakness, but the more he held back, the more it built up inside him. The tears became sobs, and for some time he sat with his face buried on his drawn-up knees.

When it was over, he felt weak and exhausted, but more calm_. I'll be all right,_ he told himself._ The sun will come out, my clothes will dry, I'll find food. And I'll find my way out of this damned forest, too. Locksley. It's toward the western end of Sherwood. I'll head west tomorrow. I'll find it. Slip in when no one's around. Get some dry clothes and food._

_I need a plan, otherwise I'll just wander endlessly until I'm caught and turned over to Prince John. Maybe I need to get out of Nottinghamshire altogether. Head for another part of England, where no one knows me. Start over somewhere else. But where, and with what? I have nothing._

He sighed._ Dear God above, what a mess I've made of things. Vaisey, no regrets there. At least I avenged Marian's murder, even if I failed to prevent it. But my partnership with Prince John, that's ruined, along with any hopes of ever being Sheriff. King Richard? Forget it. Two assassination attempts, when the first one would have been enough to guarantee my execution. Isabella, my onetime beloved sister, now my enemy. I tried, I did, but whatever I offered her obviously wasn't enough. I can't win her back, any more than I can change that awful day twenty years ago, and bring back our parents._

_And Robin of Locksley. Strange how we can't seem to escape each other. Every time we meet, it's a battle, either of words or swords, but we come back to it again and again, like moths to a flame._

_I wonder what he would think if he knew that the first feeling I had, when I saw that he had escaped out of the well I tried to drown him in, was relief that I didn't succeed! Would he laugh, and I laugh with him? It would feel so good right now to laugh with someone, even if the joke was on me! Not much hope in that direction, though. He blames me for Marian. If he's grieving for her half as much as I am, then it's no surprise he hates me. I'd hate me, too._

_What am I thinking? Sharing a joke with Hood? I must be losing my mind. Maybe that's it. That's why I threw Prince John down the well, and let Robin escape instead. I'm going insane. I hope it happens soon. At any rate, if I stay out here in Sherwood long enough, Robin and his men will find me. They'll shoot me in the back from behind a tree. Just as well if they do. I'll never see it coming, and it'll put me out of my misery for good._

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_

At first light, Guy arose from his damp bed and made his way through the heart of the cool, dripping forest, this time heading west. The sun broke through the low, fast-moving clouds as a stiff breeze began to blow. Increasingly faint and weak from hunger, he pushed on stubbornly, driven by the will to live even when, as now, life no longer seemed worth living.

Late that afternoon, as the woods darkened and hope began to fade that he would reach Locksley by nightfall, he glimpsed the light of lamps and candles through the trees. His surroundings were by now familiar once again. He crept through the woods and around the back of Locksley Manor, alert for any movement or voices. All was quiet. Saturday night. The villagers would be away in Nottingham at the taverns, or at each other's homes to eat and visit. Unless Isabella was in residence, the manor would be empty, or nearly so. He could intimidate any servants still in the house into silence easily enough.

He slipped through the back door and into the main living area. No one around. Good. Now for some food and dry clothes, and money, if any was lying around. A blanket. His horse? No, too risky. He would come back for it later, when he had worked out a plan of action.

He stood in the manor's kitchen, tearing greedily at a loaf of bread and some leftover meat from the day's midday meal. He stuffed more bread and fruit into a sack, and carried it upstairs to his room. He was rummaging through a chest to find some clothes when he heard voices outside. Isabella, and a servant or two. The voices were all female, to his relief, as he had left his weapons hidden behind the house, and was armed only with the knife in his belt.

He hesitated, uncertain of what to do about Isabella. She had betrayed him, by lying to him about her involvement with Robin. Then there was the betrayal at the well in the castle, when she had lied outrageously about him to the prince, and helped get him outlawed as a result. At the time he had been angry enough to threaten her with his sword, and push her down the well.

But now he was torn. Her treachery toward him in regards to the prince, though infuriating at the time, in retrospect might be a blessing in disguise. Prince John was, in many respects, worse to serve under than Vaisey. He was not so sure now that being Sheriff was worth the price he would have to pay. But, neither did he want to be an outlaw for the rest of his life. Such a life was likely to be brief, and come to a violent end, under the present circumstances.

Could he trust her again? She was the only family he had left, and he was loathe to give up that tie too quickly. Perhaps there was a chance to make things right between them, if he offered her that chance. Still, he was done with her lies, and was determined to make sure she never dared betray him again.

As she started up the stairs, Guy made his decision. He hid himself, knife drawn, and waited. She walked into her bedroom.

"Hello, Isabella," came the deep voice from behind her bedroom door.

She saw the glint of a knife before she saw her brother.

"Guy!"

"Thought I was gone, did you?" He stepped out of the shadows and held the knife to her throat.

"What are you doing? Get that out of my face!"

"You betrayed me. You lied to Prince John about me, and you lied to me about your involvement with Hood. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't take it out of you right now."

"Guy, stop! Listen to me!"

"Listen to you? What, to hear more lies?"

"No, I can help you!"

"How?"

"I'm the only one standing between you and Prince John."

"Keep talking."

"I can speak for you, brother, get you a pardon. I can convince him it was all a mistake. I have influence with him."

"So I've seen."

"If you kill me, you'll never be a free man again. John will be king if Richard doesn't return. Guy, let me help you."

Guy had no intention of killing his own sister. His only intent was to frighten her into never crossing him again. But he let her think it, as it served his purpose.

"Why should I trust you after what you did?"

"If you trust me in this, we'll both get what we want. You'll be back in the prince's good graces. And I'll help you get Hood."

"And you think I'm so hot and eager to get back in Prince John's good graces, do you?"

"If you want to be Sheriff, there's no other way. And you have to get Robin Hood, that's part of the deal."

"I thought you were in league with him."

"Robin Hood? Never! I hate him!"

"So, what do you get out of this, if I let you help me?"

"A second chance with you, revenge on Robin Hood, and perhaps, when you're Sheriff, a share in the power?"

Guy smiled. "Always the little schemer, aren't you? You want power, and you'll do anything to get it."

"And you won't? We both want the same thing, don't we? Come, Guy, let's work together, help each other."

He looked intently at her for a long moment, and then cautiously re-sheathed his knife.

"All right, sister, I'll trust you one more time. We all make mistakes, don't we? I'll give you another chance. Speak for me to Prince John, and I'll share with you when I'm Sheriff."

She touched his arm. "Guy, you're my brother. I know we can work together, learn to trust each other. Come on downstairs and we'll talk. I know things about Hood, where his camp is, what his weaknesses are. I'll tell you how we can catch him."

He shook his head. "I'm not concerned about Hood right now. I just don't want to spend my life running, with a price on my head. We'll deal with Prince John first, then worry about the rest later."

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Guy slept at Locksley Manor that night. He was up before Isabella early the next morning, and seated at the table in the dining hall, plowing his way through an enormous breakfast, when she came downstairs.

"How did you sleep?"

"With one eye open."

She laughed lightly and rubbed his shoulders. "Guy, if we're going to work together, we need to start trusting each other."

He shrugged and continued eating. She went behind him to the sideboard, poured him a tankard of ale, and gave it to him. He drank it down, and went back to his meal. She refilled the cup for him.

"So," he began, between mouthfuls, "how do you propose that I get back in favour with Prince John, and get my outlaw status revoked?"

"There's something you need to do first before we go any further."

"What's that?"

"I need you to apologize for what you did when you gave me to Thornton. You made my life miserable—"

"Isabella, not this again! This is a waste of time. We've been all through this already. What more do you want from me, anyway? I had to arrange your marriage. If I hadn't, we'd still be in France, with nothing. In fact, it's because of me that we have anything! I suggest we get on with business. We need to decide what you're going to say to Prince John—"

"It's always about you, isn't it? Just like when you sold me to Thornton."

"It's not my fault that you failed to make the best of your circumstances."

"I hoped for better from you, but deep down I knew that you hadn't changed. You had your chance, Guy. I would have forgiven you. But you don't deserve it. In fact, I don't need you, and I don't have to share power, with you or anyone else. I can be Sheriff of Nottingham on my own. It's already been arranged, with Prince John. He's going to install me as Sheriff tonight. So, what if, instead of helping you, I drug you and hand you over to him myself? I could use that reward money."

He looked up at her, the cup halfway to his lips. She was smiling, a cold, malicious smile. Suddenly he groaned. The tankard slipped from his hand and crashed to the table.

"Isabella," he said thickly, "what did you do?"

"A little something in your drink," she replied. She bent close to his face. "Concentrated valarian root. Enough to knock you out for hours. You should have done what I asked. Now it's too late, my dear brother."

He tried to stand up, but the room was swirling around him and growing dark. He slumped back into his chair, and his head sank down on the table as he lost consciousness.

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Guy came to with the most uncomfortable sensation of being unable to move his arms and legs. He opened his eyes, and felt a momentary panic when he also couldn't see. He tried to call out, but something was in his mouth, and he choked on the sound. He lay still, his heart pounding with fear, before his head cleared and he was able to think rationally again.

_She's tied me up. I'm on my bed. This thing in my mouth is just a gag. I'm not blind, she only covered my eyes._

He wiggled his hands, stretched over his head, to test the knots, and smiled despite the gag. He remembered trying to teach Isabella to tie a complicated knot when they were children, without much success._ You never did get the knack of it, Isabella, _he thought as he worked his hands free._ You think you're so very clever, don't you? But you're not that smart, dear sister. And I won't be trusting you again, ever._

He pulled his hands free of the ropes, at the cost of some skin from his wrists, and took the gag from his mouth and the cloth off his eyes. As he had suspected, he was in his room on his bed. Isabella and her maidservants had apparently carried him upstairs while he was unconscious. No one was with him in the room now, but he clearly heard Isabella's voice in the dining hall below. And not just his sister, but others, men's voices, among them the voice of Prince John.

Guy tugged frantically on the ropes tying his ankles. He freed himself just in time to hear Isabella inviting the prince upstairs.

"I have a gift for you, sire," she was saying.

"A gift? That sounds rather exciting, my dear. I do like gifts!"

"You'll like this one especially, sire."

Guy slid behind the door as Isabella and the prince entered the room. He heard her gasp as she saw the empty bed and the dangling ropes.

"Isabella!" breathed Prince John, with a lecherous grin. "You naughty girl!"

"No, sire! You don't understand! He's escaped!"

"Escaped? Who?"

"Looking for me?" said Guy, as he stepped from behind the door.

It was Prince John's turn to choke.

"Gisborne!" He pulled Isabella in front of him, as a shield, and moved toward the door.

"Guards, up here, now! Arrest him!"

Guy tore Isabella from his grasp and shoved her roughly toward the bed. She fell and tangled in the bed sheets. Then Guy turned his attention to the prince.

"Ow, ow!" cried Prince John a second later, as he held his hands to his face. "He's broken my nose! Guards, stop him!"

Guy squeezed his way out of the window. It was a long drop to the ground. He landed without injury, however, and bolted into the woods beyond, with the shouts of the prince's guards ringing in his ears, and arrows whizzing past him.

"Go and find him, you fools!" Prince John screamed at his men, while his hand gingerly explored the damage to his nose. Then he turned on Isabella.

"If he's spoiled my looks for the banquet tonight, someone's going to pay!"

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"Sire, please accept my apologies. It was all a mistake! I don't know how he got loose. But I'm terribly sorry. I wasn't even going to ask for the reward money—"

"Now, don't fret, my dear Isabella," said the prince as he stood in front of the large mirror in the Great Hall, patting his nose into shape. "You almost had him. That's more than your predecessor Vaisey did for me. How do I look now?"

"A bit swollen, sire, but—"

"Swollen? Oh! Do you think anyone will notice?"

"Sire, no one will think less of you for it, if they even notice. Why, anyone who learns of what he did to you will only think you very brave for standing up to the outlaw, Guy of Gisborne."

"Hmm, do you think so? I'm inclined to agree with you. I was quite brave, wasn't I? I wasn't armed, and he hit me. That makes him the coward, not me."

"Yes, of course, sire. And we'll find him and bring him to justice, soon."

"I have full confidence in you, my dear. The banquet will go on tonight as planned. I'll still make you the new Sheriff. I haven't got anyone else lined up for the job."

Isabella, reassured that no lasting damage to her goal was done, went back to her room with her maid to dress herself up for the occasion. All the flirting, buttering up, and smoothing of ruffled feathers had finally paid off. She would have power, real power. And when she did, she would deal once and for all with her hateful brother. And Robin Hood? She had offered her heart to him, and he had scorned it. He would live only long enough to regret his choice.


	15. Chapter 15 The Party Crasher

THE PARTY—CRASHER

"Robin, where are you off to now? Not that banquet, I hope."

"I'm not on the guest list, Marian, if that's what you mean."

"Are you and the boys planning to crash the party, then?"

"As much fun as that would be, no. We'll be tucked out of sight. I want to find out what Isabella's plans are, and I'm hoping that something in her acceptance speech gives it away."

"And then what?"

"We'll see. She's in league with Prince John. Not good. But, if she carries out her duties as Sheriff like she told me she would, I'll cut her some slack. She can't be any worse than Vaisey."

"Let's hope not. What about Guy? You don't think he'll show up at the banquet, do you?"

Robin laughed. "I doubt Gisborne is within a hundred miles of Nottingham right now. He probably high-tailed it out of here right after throwing the prince down the well. But if he is still around, that would be a sight to behold! Wouldn't I love to see him shake up Isabella's little victory party!"

"Really, Robin, you are being very bad."

"I know. But you love it when I'm bad, admit it!"

She kissed him, and smiled. "You will be careful?"

"Of course. I always am."

"I wish I was coming with you."

"As yourself, or the Nightwatchman?"

"I'm quite recovered, you know, Robin. I'm feeling like myself again these days. I just might have to bring 'him' out of retirement."

"Don't even think about it."

"It's dull around here, with you always off having adventures while I'm stuck at the cottage."

"Tell you what, love. You can come with me and the lads next time."

"You'd better mean that, because I'm going to hold you to it."

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Robin and the gang made their way to Nottingham that afternoon, slipped past the guards at the gates and the castle doors, and went inside. After quietly dispensing with the hallway guards by knocking out and tying them up, they took up their position just outside of the Great Hall. The feast was already underway.

"Mmm, it smells wonderful!" sighed Much. "Just look at all that food!"

"You could feed a village for a month on half of it," grunted John in disgust.

Robin smiled. "Looks like he's invited every noble for miles around, and quite a few of Nottingham's merchants, too."

"Rich pickings if we could only get inside unnoticed," mused Will.

"No doubt, but we're only here to watch tonight, Will. I want to know what she's up to."

"What happened to the prince's nose?" asked Allan.

"Good question. Looks a bit squashed, doesn't it? And bruised. An accident?" answered Much.

"Well, I don't think anybody would be crazy enough to sock him in the nose on purpose," said Robin.

The outlaws looked on in silence after that, broken only now and again by Much moaning about how hungry he was. Robin kept a close vigil on the whole gathering, but his eyes were drawn back repeatedly to a tall guard, whose face was hidden under his helmet, but whose stance was eerily familiar. He watched the man for several minutes, and noticed that his attention rarely left the table where Isabella and Prince John sat laughing and drinking together.

Allan, it seemed, was also watching. "You thinking what I'm thinking?" he whispered to Robin.

Robin turned to his men. "You don't suppose? No, he wouldn't be that crazy—would he?"

Robin soon had the answer to his question. After the supper, while the guests were filling up the corners of their appetites with cake and wine, Isabella, with the bruised but besotted Prince John beaming at her side, stood up to make her acceptance speech. She had not gotten much beyond "Good people of Nottingham, this is a great honour, etc.", before there was a disturbance amongst the assembled throng. A scream, then several screams, and a sudden scattering of guests away from a point several yards from the new Sheriff.

"Yep, he's crazy enough!" groaned Robin, as off came the helmet, and up came the crossbow, cleverly hidden under the tall guard's cloak. It was Gisborne.

"The ultimate party-crasher," quipped Allan. "Remind me never to invite him to a feast."

"He'll be a dead man soon if he doesn't put that thing down," said Tuck.

"A very desperate dead man, Tuck, with nothing left to lose."

"Gotta admire his nerve just the same," added Allan.

"What are we going to do?" asked Will.

"Stop him if we can."

"What, shoot him?"

Robin frowned and shook his head. "No, not unless there's no other way. I'll try talking him down first."

"If we go in there, we'll be dead, too!" argued Much, but Robin was already halfway inside.

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"Guy! You dare come here—"

"Shut up, or I'll shut you up myself!" he shouted at Isabella. "Don't think I won't shoot you, too, after what you did!"

He then addressed Prince John, who was cowering behind his new Sheriff. He lifted the crossbow and leveled it at both of them.

"Appointment as Sheriff? How about a state funeral instead!"

The prince gulped and clutched at Isabella, who stood her ground.

Robin's voice broke through the excited buzz of the crowd.

"Gisborne, put the weapon down. Don't do it!"

"Hood!" Guy turned his attention, but not his deadly aim, from Isabella and Prince John to Robin, who stood just inside the doorway, surrounded by his men and with his bow drawn back and pointed straight at him.

"Don't do it, Gisborne. I know he deserves it, but without a ruler at home, the country will be at war. Think about what you're doing! Come on, this is suicide. Put it down!"

Guy looked from one face to another. Robin could only imagine the desperation he felt. He had gone too far to turn back. His fate was already decided. There was no way out of the Hall. He saw the man hesitate, uncertainty and fear on his face. Slowly, the crossbow started to come down.

"Guards, arrest him!" screamed Isabella. It was an unfortunate move, for Guy reacted as years of training as a knight had taught him. The weapon came up instantly, and he loosed a bolt at the prince. It hit Isabella instead, in the shoulder. She collapsed on top of the prince. Guy quickly reloaded the weapon, intent on not missing a second time. The panicked guests scattered as the guards moved in closer to get a clear shot at the would-be royal assassin.

Robin aimed his bow. He felt a strange reluctance to shoot, now that the opportunity to kill his enemy had come, but the decision was taken out of his hands. One of the guards caught Guy a glancing blow with his sword, enough to slow him and knock him off balance. He went down, with several guards on top of him. As Robin and his men, in the resulting commotion, discreetly made their way to the door, they saw Guy being hauled roughly to his feet and chained.

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"You tried to stop him, Robin. The big fool. What was he thinking? He must have known he didn't have a prayer," said Will as the gang gathered around the fire after a late supper.

"He's a dead fool now," said Little John. "He'll never get out of that prison alive, Isabella and Prince John will see to that. He's just lucky the Sheriff isn't around anymore."

"Robin, you're quiet."

"I'm thinking, Much."

"Always a worry."

"No, I was thinking about Gisborne. This is going to sound strange, but I'm actually glad I didn't shoot him today."

"You should have. He deserves it." This from Little John.

"Perhaps."

"What do you mean, perhaps?"

"Some part of me is almost wishing he'd gotten away."

"You've got to be joking!"

"No, I'm not. I understand why he did what he did. Not saying I agree with it, but I know why he did. I could pity him right now, and I do."

"So, what do you want to do, then? Break him out of jail?"

Robin smiled. "There's an idea."

"I wonder," said Allan, "what would've happened if he'd put his weapon down."

"He'd still have been arrested. Of course, it's possible I could have talked him into joining up with us."

"Joining us? Robin, now I know you're joking!"

"Think of it, John. What he did today, well, that took guts, crazy or not. And he's an outlaw, just like us. He'd make a great part of the team, don't you think?"

"You're as crazy as he is!" John grunted. "Maybe worse!"

The others were so busy laughing at the idea that they didn't notice Robin did not join in. He sat apart, gazing thoughtfully into the fire.

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In the depths of Nottingham Castle, a man who had, on the order of his former master, imprisoned many a poor wretch to suffer in anguish, now found himself a prisoner in that same dark place. Locked up, chained at wrist and ankle, he never left his cell unless it was to be tormented at the whim and pleasure of his captors.

He bore the pain and humiliation in stubborn silence, however. Even when Isabella's torturers hung him by his wrists from the ceiling and beat him bloody, he bit his lips to stifle his screams. Never would he give Isabella, occasionally a spectator at these sessions, the satisfaction of hearing him cry for mercy.

Only when they tired of their sport and left him alone in the cold and gloomy reek of his cell, shackled to the rough wooden bench that served as his bed, did the tears come, slipping through the hands he held to his bruised face. He longed for death. Night after night he prayed for death, but his prayers went unheeded, and the days dragged on, a dark tunnel of pain and despair devoid of all hope.


	16. Chapter 16 A Voice From the Past

A VOICE FROM THE PAST

Several quiet days passed. The outlaws made no further trips to Nottingham, but kept their activities confined to the villages. According to rumours circulating amongst the villagers, Prince John had returned to London shortly after Isabella's installation as the new Sheriff. She was reportedly recovering well from the injury to her shoulder. No word reached them, however, of Gisborne's fate.

Robin was with Marian at Matilda's cottage one evening. Will and Djaq had come from the camp to eat supper with them, but they had gone back soon after, Will complaining of a headache. Robin and Marian settled down near the warm fire to play chess, as the twilight deepened outside the cottage windows. Matilda was away for the night, visiting her daughter and grandchild.

Robin sprawled on the sheepskin rug and grinned up at Marian.

"Privacy at last!" he said. "We don't get much of this, do we?"

She smiled back. "Are you sure you want to play chess, then, love?"

His answering smile spoke for him, but before they could abandon the chess game, a firm knock sounded on the door.

Robin was annoyed at the interruption, but also instantly on the alert. He motioned Marian to the bedroom, reached for his sword, and cautiously went to the door.

"Who is it?"

"Robin, I need to see you. Please, let me in." The voice was raspy, laboured.

"Who are you? Identify yourself!"

"A voice from your past, Robin."

"That's not good enough."

"If I told you, you wouldn't believe me."

"Whoever you are, I'm not interested in playing guessing games. I'm opening the door, but be warned. I'm well-armed, and my men are within bow-shot of you."

Very slowly, Robin eased the door open. A figure stood in the gloom. Tall, but thin and stooped. Cloaked, the face hidden under a heavy hood. Robin stared.

"Who are you? What do you want with me?"

The mysterious figure reached up a pair of hands that Robin saw were scarred, and pushed back the hood. A strange face met his eyes. A man's face, a man who at one time might have been handsome. But the eyes were sunken and tired and pain-filled. The skin on one side of his face looked as though the man had been burned in the past. His thick hair was streaked with grey.

"Who are you?" Robin asked again.

"Have I changed that much?" said the man, his smile twisted by the scars on his face. "No wonder you don't know me, son. I've been dead for twenty years."

Robin gasped. "Father?"

"Yes, Robin, lad, it's me."

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Sir Malcolm of Locksley sat by the fire, warming himself with a cup of wine. Robin and Marian sat across from him.

"Father, how can this be?" said Robin. "You died, in the fire in Locksley."

"That's what I let everyone believe. I escaped, and left Nottinghamshire."

"But why? I don't understand any of this. I mourned for you! Why did you leave me alone?"

"I have much to tell you, Robin, and not much time left to do it. I found you just in time, it seems. I'm dying, son."

"No! Surely not!"

"I've been ill for some time, Robin, and I feel in my heart it won't be long. But there are still things you don't know. I have to tell you the whole story, while I can."

And for the next two hours, he did. When he finished, Robin was stunned. Everything he had believed for so many years about his childhood, his family history, and indeed his whole life, had been turned upside down.

"Why did it take you so long to tell me this? Why have you been in hiding all this time?"

"I couldn't tell you, Robin. I was ashamed, so ashamed of my actions. I was selfish, and I acted without honour. How could I face you after what I did?"

"So you left me alone in the world."

"I knew others would look after you, better men than me, who would teach you right principles. I'm not disappointed. I'm proud of the man you've become. You're a far better man than me."

"Don't keep saying that, Father!"

"It's true, son. I should have waited, and not pressured Ghislaine. Rodger was very ill. He would not have lived long, and Ghislaine and I could have married then. I was too impatient, thinking only of myself when I convinced her to have her husband banished as a leper. But she still loved him. He was the father of her children. My selfishness cost Ghislaine her life. It was Guy who tried to stop me first, when I went after Rodger. The man was ill, dying, and I attacked him. I can never forgive myself for that. Ghislaine tried to stop our fight, too. I pushed her away from me, and she fell. It killed her."

Malcolm saw the shocked look in his son's eyes.

"Yes, I know. You thought Ghislaine and Rodger died in the fire. No, Robin. I killed her. It was an accident, but it was my fault. Rodger refused to leave her even as the house burned down, and he died beside her."

"And all this time I thought it was the fire that Guy set that killed them."

"He didn't set that fire, Robin. It was an accident, too. Guy set it with a torch that fell against the window curtains. He was trying to stop me, stop my madness. It wasn't his fault, Robin. It was mine."

"But Guy took the blame for it, and was driven out of Locksley!"

"And I can't forgive myself for letting that lie stand for twenty years. Or for abandoning Archer, for not raising Ghislaine's and my son. But I couldn't. I was badly burned in the fire, as you see. I spent many months in the convent at Kirklees recovering. While there I did a lot of thinking, about what was best for you, and for Archer, your half brother. I left Nottinghamshire for many years, and only returned occasionally. When I heard that you were back from the Crusades, I came back to stay. I went in search of Archer two years ago, only to learn that he had run away from the orphanage years before. I spent many months trying to track him down. Only recently was I able to find him."

"Where is he?"

"York, in prison."

"Prison? Why?"

"I don't know, but he's to be executed."

"When?"

"Next week. Robin, I'm too sick to help. I'm dying, son. I need you to help him, get him out, for my sake, and Ghislaine's, before it's too late."

"Of course, Father, I will. I'll do everything I can. My men will help me, I'm sure."

"Robin, that's not all. I need you to do something else for me. Rescue Guy as well. Don't let Isabella kill him."

"Guy?"

"I need you to save him. And, forgive him."

Robin stood up. "What? Forgive Guy?" he said in disgust. "I could never do that!"

"Why not?"

"Do you know what he's done? He worked for Vaisey for years, killed for him. He tried to assassinate the king!"

"Yes, I know."

"Then how can you ask such a thing of me?"

"Robin, you don't know everything that he has suffered. He was driven from Locksley, with his sister. He lost his rightful inheritance, the one he would have gotten if his mother and I had married. It was taken from him. He and Isabella fled to France with nothing but the clothes on their backs. Their lives were very desperate. They were not accepted by their mother's family because of their English father."

"Just like the people of Locksley didn't accept them because their mother was French," said Robin after a thoughtful pause. "Father, how do you know all these things?"

Malcolm smiled. "When you look like me, son, it's easy to hide from others. People talked, and I listened. I heard a lot, and learned a lot over the years, by just hiding in the shadows."

He went back to his story.

"Guy couldn't take care of Isabella. They had nothing. So he gave his sister in an arranged marriage to a man named Thornton, and used the money he received to pay for his training as a knight. You were away in the Crusades when Guy came back to Nottingham, and was employed by Vaisey. Vaisey saw his potential and took him under his wing. Guy had no father to guide him. He came back from France, and his service in the Crusades, as an angry, resentful young man with a thirst for revenge against those he believed had wronged him. He doesn't have your strength of character. He never did. Even as a boy he was sullen and prone to a quick and savage temper. Always more of a follower than a leader like you. Vaisey exploited that in him. Don't underestimate what Vaisey did to him. He was very cunning, Robin, sly and manipulative. You don't know what he did to Guy."

"Everything we do is a choice, Father. Guy made his choices. He stayed with Vaisey. No one forced him to."

"True, and I'm not making excuses for Guy. What he did was wrong. He's hurt a lot of people. But put yourself in his place. Would you always have made the right choices? Who's to say? You did not have me, but you had others—good, well-principled men to guide you as you grew up. Guy did not."

Robin shook his head.

"Guy was born to good people, Robin. The Gisbornes were good people. Guy and Isabella loved their parents very much. Their lives were comfortable and happy before Rodger left for the Crusades. Rodger was a man of honour, a far better man than me. If he and Ghislaine had lived, I have no doubt Guy would have turned out very differently."

"Well, he didn't, did he?"

"Are you so sure he doesn't regret the choices he's made, Robin? He may very well regret them now. He's not a stupid man. But maybe he can't change his ways now without help."

"Now you sound like Marian," said Robin, looking across at his wife with a smile.

"Marian is a wise woman," replied Malcolm.

"So, rescue Archer, okay. I'm willing to do that. But Guy? Why is this so important to you?"

"Because I feel responsible in no small way for what happened to him. Guy lost his father to the Crusades when he was only eleven, and got him back years later, but as a leper. He lost his father again when Rodger was banished. Then he watched him die in that fire, and he was blamed for his parent's deaths. To this day he doesn't know the truth. I know what that's done to him, to live with that guilt and shame. I've lived it myself, in my own way. Guy was going to be my stepson. You would have been raised together, as brothers, with Archer. You were meant to be brothers. Things should have been so different, for all of you."

"So now, after all these years, you tell me this, and you want me to rescue Guy, and forgive him?"

"Robin, you and Guy share a brother. You're almost family. I need you to stop the hate. Don't destroy each other the way your fathers did. You have this opportunity, both of you, to right the wrongs we did."

"Your father is right, Robin," said Marian softly.

"You say 'we', like Guy is going to cooperate and make peace."

"From what Marian tells me, he might be willing, if given the chance. What does he have to lose at this point? He's in prison, with nothing to look forward to but death."

"True. But he hates me. You know he thinks Marian is dead, and he blames me for it."

"Like I killed his mother. I'd say the score is about even. But if he knew Marian was alive—"

"Truthfully, I don't know how he'd react. Funny that I almost told him once." He related to Malcolm the incident at the well.

"I almost told him then. And I almost offered my help to him."

"Sometimes we need to follow what our instinct is telling us to do. Robin, since you were a little boy, you've always been a caring person, and I'm proud of you for that. You're like your mother that way. You feel compassion for people and want to help them. You looked after the people of Locksley while you were growing up, and now you're doing the same for the poor of Nottingham."

"I have, to, Father. I couldn't do any less."

"Son, it's not only the poor and the downtrodden who need your compassion. Sometimes it's the one who seems to deserve it the least who actually needs it the most."

"Guy, you mean."

"Robin, don't judge him too harshly. His life has been tragic in many ways. He's suffered, more than you know."

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They talked long into the night. Toward morning, Robin saw how tired his father was, and urged him to rest.

"Stay with us," he said. "We'll make up a bed for you. And let us get you something to eat."

Malcolm shook his head. "I'll stay if you wish, but I can't eat. I lost my appetite for food some time ago. A little more wine would be more to my liking. It helps dull the pain."

Robin poured him another glass while Marian made up the bed for him. He lay down a short time later, and dozed off. But Malcolm was more ill, and closer to death, than even he realized. When he woke up some time later, he felt considerably worse. Robin and Marian sat by his side, grieved to see the pain etched in his face and hear his soft moans, but helpless to alleviate it.

Matilda arrived late in the morning and was apprised of the situation. She immediately mixed up an herbal drink to ease the man's suffering. He relaxed back into sleep, but Matilda shook her head sadly to Robin's hopeful inquiries.

"Nothing we can do, Robin, dear," she told him gently. "It's his time. We'll just make him as comfortable as we can."

Robin stayed by his side all through that day and into the late afternoon, with Marian and Matilda close by. Malcolm drifted in and out of consciousness. When he was awake, he and Robin talked. Toward nightfall, however, his father became too weak to answer him, though he could still smile as Robin told him stories of his adventures, his gang, and his memories of growing up in Locksley, while holding his father's cold hands to warm them.

Late that night, Malcolm's eyes closed for the last time, and at dawn he quietly passed. His face was tranquil, the lines of pain smoothed away, and Robin smiled through his tears.

"I promise you, Father, I'll go on making you proud."


	17. Chapter 17 Amost Family

"ALMOST FAMILY"

"Robin, we've been worried about you! You said you were going to see Marian, but it's been, what, four days? We were about to come looking for you. Not that you have to account to us, of course. We were just worried."

"I was with Marian. But I've also been with my father, Much."

"Your father? I thought he was dead!"

"So did I. He is, now. He died yesterday."

"I'm sorry."

"Thank you. He was very ill. He's out of his suffering now."

"But, I'm confused. I thought he died years ago, in a fire, when you were a child."

"I've got a lot to tell you. Find the rest of the gang. We need to talk."

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The outlaws, with Marian, gathered at the camp that evening. Robin told them of his father's sudden appearance, and his revelations about his brother prior to his death.

"A half-brother? Who is he?"

"His name is Archer. He's my father's son, born when I was eleven, just before my father disappeared. We've never met. I knew nothing of him until my father told me. He's in prison, in York. I promised my dying father that I would get him out, and I intend to honour that promise. I can't ask any of you to help me—"

"Robin, you have it. You don't need to ask," answered John.

The others nodded agreement.

"Thank you, all of you. You know I'd do the same for any of you. But, there's more. I promised my father I'd do what I could to get Gisborne out as well."

"Gisborne? What has he got to do with this?"

"As much as I do, Tuck. You see, Archer is his brother, too."

The outlaws all stared at each other.

"You and Gisborne share a brother?" exclaimed Much.

"My father, his mother." Robin told them the story. When he finished, there was an astonished silence.

"It turns out," Robin ended, "that Gisborne and I are almost family."

"Unbelievable!"

"Yes, Much, but it's true."

"Almost family!" snorted Little John. "Robin, how can you say that? This is Gisborne we're talking about!"

"I know, John, but Archer is his brother. And Guy would have been my stepbrother. That's what our parents intended."

"So you're going to break Gisborne out of prison? Then what are you going to do with him?"

"Well, I don't know! I haven't worked that out yet, have I? Listen, all of you. Archer is my priority right now. I need to get him out of prison before he's executed. If any of you want to come with me, I'll welcome the help, but you're not obligated. Assuming we get back safely, then I'll worry about Gisborne. We don't even know if he's still alive at this point."

"Just as well if he isn't," muttered Will under his breath.

"How are you going to recognize this brother of yours?" Tuck asked.

"He's young," said Robin, "only twenty. And my father said he has a birthmark on his chest, shaped like an arrowhead. That's why Guy's mother named him Archer. He has traveled widely, according to my father. He might be useful to us, if he's willing to join our cause. That's all I know. I'm hoping he's not a low-life scoundrel."

"He could be in prison for murder, or worse," threw in Will.

"I won't know until we meet."

"When do you want to leave, Robin?"

"First light. But I have to do something tonight before we go. Bury my father. In Locksley Village, beside my mother."

"We'll help you."

"Thank you. We'll go after dark."

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The burial, on the hillside overlooking Locksley, was quick and quiet. Robin covered his father with a cloth, and, with John's help, laid him gently in the freshly dug earth.

"I'm sorry, Father, that I can't do this properly, but there's no time. I'll find Archer, don't worry. And I'll do whatever I can for Guy, I promise. Be at peace."

He threw a handful of dirt into the grave, and the others followed, before Allan and John shoveled the grave closed. Marian laid a wreath of early spring flowers on top.

"You all right, Robin?" asked John.

"I'm okay, John. There will be time for me to grieve. Right now I have a job to do, and not much time to do it. We leave first thing in the morning."

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Robin and the other outlaws returned triumphant from York five days later, with a grateful Archer in their midst. His rescue had been pulled off in true Robin Hood style, and was the subject of much discussion, and hilarity, on the journey back to Sherwood.

Of course, young Archer was full of questions for his newfound older brother, none other than the famous outlaw himself. At the orphanage, where he had spent the first twelve years of his life, he had been told only that his parents were dead, nothing about any siblings or other family. Robin's rescue had come as a complete, but very welcome, surprise, although he assured his brother that he was in the process of formulating a plan of escape when the outlaws arrived on the scene.

Robin saw a strong resemblance between himself and Archer in both looks and character. There was little of Guy in him, except for the proud carriage of his head, and the smirking half-grin that was a less cynical reflection of Guy's sneer. There was a toughness about him, a resiliency and self-assurance born of many years of surviving by his own wits. He was skilled in the use of a number of weapons, and his abilities with a bow rivalled Robin's. Robin felt no jealousy, however. He was anxious to know this new brother of his.

Early on, Archer was made acquainted with the circumstances of his birth, and the family tragedy that followed. Robin spared him some of the details. He did tell him, however, of his half-sister, Isabella, now Sheriff of Nottingham and a deadly enemy of theirs, and of his other half-brother, Guy of Gisborne. Thankfully, Archer had never heard of him. Robin held back from telling him some of the more grim aspects of Guy's nature, but did secure Archer's promise that he would help in the rescue of the man, assuming he was still alive.

The possibility that Guy might already be dead disturbed Robin more than he would have imagined. The closer they got to Sherwood, the more anxious he became to get word of the man's fate. The gang, with their new member, arrived at the safety of the outlaw camp late in the evening, tired and hungry, but still elated about the rescue of Archer. Robin soon sobered their laughter.

"I'm going to Nottingham first thing in the morning, lads, to find out what's become of Gisborne. Any of you want to come with me, you'll be welcome, but you're not under obligation."

"I'm with you, Robin," piped up Archer.

"Me, too," said Allan.

The others looked a bit uncertain, and reluctant, but loyalty to their leader won out, and the next morning the whole gang headed for Nottingham.

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"Meg Bennett, please explain to myself and the court why you acted in such a deplorable fashion toward your father, in rejecting his choice of suitors for you."

Robin and the gang, well disguised, stood amongst the throng gathered in the square in front of the castle, and looked on in curiosity at the proceedings. A young woman stood before Sheriff Isabella. She was surrounded by guards, gawked at by the crowd of onlookers, and glared at by a very irate man who was evidently her father. Unintimidated, however, she tossed back a headful of curls and spoke out, with no tremor of fear in her voice.

"Lady Sheriff, the first one had the face of a donkey and the brains of a chicken. The second one could have been my grandfather!"

A titter of laughter rippled over the crowd.

"And the third one," said Isabella, "you apparently bribed to go back home to York, with money you stole from your father."

"He was a Mummy's boy! What good is a man like that?"

The crowd laughed again, and a few applauded.

"You ungrateful little wretch!" roared her father, but Isabella cut him off.

"Go on, Meg. Why did you do it?"

"Because I won't let anyone tell me how to live my own life!" she exclaimed. "Lady Sheriff, I don't want to marry! Men are so—stupid!"

This caused yet more laughter, and a few raised brows from the men in the crowd.

"I think England would be a much better place if women were in charge."

"Dream on, girl!" whispered Allan, until Robin shushed him.

Isabella stood up, and directed a very pleased smile at Meg.

"Release her."

"Thank you, Lady Sheriff!"

"Come up here with me, my dear."

Meg, blushing at the attention, hurried up the stairs to stand beside Isabella. Isabella's gaze swept the crowd.

"People of Nottingham, now you see what kind of Sheriff I will be. I want to make this city a more fair, prosperous, and open place than it has ever been. You have all been oppressed for too long. As I have just set this young woman free, I intend to set the whole of Nottingham free!"

A loud cheer and prolonged applause followed her proclamation. When the people quieted down, she continued.

"To assure you of my intentions, we will celebrate this new freedom on Thursday morning. On that date, my brother, Guy of Gisborne, will be executed here, as punishment for his crimes against the people of this fine city, and Nottingham will be free as never before."

More applause broke out. Isabella turned to Meg and beamed at her.

"You're far too bright to be wasted in marriage to some worthless man," she said to her. "I need people like you on my team."

With that, the two women, and Isabella's bodyguards, returned to the entrance of the castle. Meg's father watched his daughter disappear into the castle with the Sheriff, and stormed off, with a very red face, as several in the crowd jeered at him, and others laughed.

Robin turned to his men. "Let's go." They regrouped in a back alley.

"Well, now we know he's still alive, at least," he said.

He did not tell them how relieved he was. Not all of them, he knew, were so happy to hear that Gisborne yet lived.

"But we don't have much time to come up with a plan to get him out."

"Are we breaking him out of prison?" asked Archer.

"He's under heavy guard, no doubt," said Robin. "Might be too dangerous, more so than getting you out was, Archer."

"Another distraction, perhaps?" suggested Tuck. "Something to draw away the guards, at least some of them, so we don't have as many to contend with."

Robin grinned. "You might be onto something, Tuck. Yes. And, you know what else I'm thinking? This could be the perfect opportunity to tweak Isabella's nose!"

"What do you mean, Robin?" asked Much. "You're up to something, I can tell!"

"Isabella likes drama and theatrics, that much is clear. How about giving it back to her? What do you all think about the idea of whisking Gisborne right out from under the executioner's axe, in full view of Isabella? Sound like fun?"

"Dangerous fun," cautioned Will. "Are you sure Gisborne's worth it?"

"We won't know unless we try. Let's get back to the camp and make a plan. Any of you want out, that's okay, I understand."

"Robin, we're with you," said John. "Almost family, right? We stick together."

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Meg Bennett, installed at the castle that same day as Isabella's assistant, would have been surprised to know how often her name came up in conversations that evening in homes and taverns across Nottingham.

The people had been treated to some much-needed entertainment, and the sight of a spirited young lass standing up to her overbearing father had been especially enjoyable. Opinions ranged from approval, mostly amongst the womenfolk, to the suggestion that she needed a good hiding to set her straight, from the fathers who worried that their own daughters might be moved to rebel as a result. Whatever impression she had made, good or bad, however, it was clear that young Meg would not be soon forgotten.

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Isabella now felt herself on solid and safe ground. She had succeeded in winding Prince John around her little finger, and as a result he had made her Sheriff of Nottingham, the first woman to hold such a position. She knew that many of the townspeople were skeptical, if not downright opposed to the idea, but she was determined to prove them wrong.

The next day she sat down to draw up her plans for Nottingham. Meg attended, and freely offered her opinions and support. Isabella loved the girl already, and saw her as a much-needed friend and ally in her new role.

But trouble was brewing. Her husband, Lord Thornton, had finally gotten word of the whereabouts of his wife. Enraged, he made his way from his estate in Shrewsbury toward Nottingham at full gallop, and arrived early the next day. The unsuspecting guards bought his story that he was a visiting official from Prince John's courts, and allowed him and his men inside.

Isabella was taken unawares, while walking back to her bedchamber. She screamed when she saw him coming toward her with three of his men with him. She tried to run, but he grabbed her and put his hand over her mouth.

"Every time you run away from me, every time you resist, my dear wife, you're only making it worse for yourself when I get you alone. Do you understand, or do you need a reminder?"

"Let go of me before I call my guards! You cannot do this, I'm the Sheriff of Nottingham! I can have you arrested!"

"You think that frightens me? You don't know me, and you have forgotten the connections I have myself. If you want to remain Sheriff, my love, I suggest you keep your pretty mouth shut and do exactly as I say."

She went cold all over. He was right. He had that power over her. For now she would have to cooperate.

"Come along," he breathed in her ear. "We have a lot to catch up on."

He seized her arm and led her toward her room. Just then, Meg, having finished the errand she was sent on, came upon the scene.

"Lady Isabella!" she cried, as she saw her mistresses' frightened face, the man holding her arm, and three burly men with him. "Are you okay? What's going on? You there, let go of her!"

"Meg, no! It's okay," said Isabella, not very convincingly. Meg started to run back up the hall.

"Guards!" she screamed. "Help!"

Several guards arrived, to find the Lady Sheriff standing beside one man, surrounded by two others, and a third man holding the arm of the young woman Meg.

"Call them off, Isabella," Thornton whispered to her, "or you'll only make things worse for yourself and your little friend."

"Lady Sheriff, do you require assistance?" asked the head guard.

Isabella felt her husband's grip tighten warningly.

"No, all is well," she replied with forced calmness. "A small misunderstanding. I'll call you if you're needed."

"Very good, my lady." The guards departed.

"Wise decision, my dear," said Thornton. "Now, we're going to talk, alone."

He turned on Meg. "And you, you need to learn your place, girl. This here lady is my wife, and I didn't appreciate having the guards called just because I want to spend a little time with her."

"She doesn't want to see you!" said the indomitable Meg, but Thornton was of a far different sort than her father. He gestured toward his men.

"This place must have a dungeon. Take her down and have her locked up. Tell the prison guard it's on Isabella's order. She'll stay there until she learns some respect."

"Yes, sir."

"Thornton, no!" cried Isabella.

He moved close to her. "You don't listen very well, do you? I told you, every time you defy me, every time you tell me no, I'm going to take it out of you when I get you alone. If you know what's good for you, you'll shut up now."

Isabella could only watch as a white-faced Meg was led away by her husband's thugs, before he pushed her ahead of him into her bedroom, and shut and locked the door.


	18. Chapter 18  Light Shines in a Dark Place

A LIGHT SHINES IN A DARK PLACE

Guy lay on his bench. His back and shoulders burned from the previous day's beating. He shifted about, trying to find a spot on his body that didn't hurt. The clang of the prison doors being thrown open caused him to sit up. Another beating? He shrank back down on the bench, every nerve quailing at the prospect. But instead, to his surprise, he heard a feminine voice raised in protest.

"Let me go! Ouch! You'll be sorry for this!"

A young woman, her hands in shackles, struggled against the two guards leading her into the cell beside Guy's. They pushed her inside and shut the door. Guy caught a quick glimpse of a slender form in a green dress, and a head of glossy brown curls.

"I'll make you suffer for this outrage!" she called after the guards, who paid her no attention. Their minds were on their dinners. She banged on the bars of the cell with her shackles, but the guards were gone.

"Men!" she said in disgust. "If I had my way they'd all disappear in a puff of smoke, and the world would be a happier place!"

She turned and spotted Guy.

"What are you staring at?" she demanded to know.

Guy looked away, in no mood for a young girl with a sassy attitude. But she walked up to the bars that separated their cells and peered intently at him.

"I know you," she said. "You're him, aren't you, you're Sir Guy, Isabella's brother. She's a friend of mine."

"Not that close, obviously," he muttered.

"Her nasty husband did this to me, clever!"

"Thornton? Is he here?" Guy laughed unpleasantly.

"He came, this morning, and found her. He's a bully, I saw it. She's terrified of him."

"Well, then, she shouldn't have gone off and left him."

She made a face at him through the bars. "Pleased with yourself, aren't you? Think you know everything."

He ignored her remark, hoping she was done and would leave him in peace. But the girl continued to look at him, only now with a wistful little smile of remembrance on her face.

"I've seen you before, you know. At a banquet once. I sat across from you all evening. I liked looking at you. You were the most handsome man in the room. You glanced at me a couple of times, and I smiled at you, but I guess you wouldn't remember. And I've seen you on the street a few times, too. The man in black on his black horse. How proud you looked! The big 'I am'. Strutting around like you owned the earth."

Her gaze turned to disdain. "But look at you now. Not so impressive anymore, are you? Dirty, and miserable, and small. And about to be executed!"

The words stung him into quick anger. "From the look of things you might not be far behind!"

Her face reddened. "I hope you go to hell!"

She flung herself away from the bars and stomped back to her seat, arms wrapped around her. She averted her face from him and was silent.

Guy watched her for a moment longer, but she didn't look at him again.

"Hell?" he said to himself, in a voice scarce above a whisper. "I'm already there."

He turned his face to the wall, back into the shadows, and shut his eyes against the coming day.

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Guy slept fitfully, his stomach cramping with hunger. The pain from his wounds left him weak. It was impossible to find a comfortable position on the hard bench. He gave up trying.

The rattle of chains woke him. He sat up, stiff and cold, to see the girl pulling with all her might on the manacles that encircled her wrists and linked her hands together.

"I can't get these off!" she complained to him. She yanked fretfully on the chains, puffing with exertion, and let out a little scream of frustration.

He looked on, growing more and more annoyed at her futile efforts, before he spat, "Just leave it, will you?"

"But it hurts!" she replied, holding up her wrists so he could see where the manacles had cut her skin and rubbed it raw.

"Of course it hurts, that's why they do it. Stop whining and deal with it!" He put his head down in his hands and massaged his throbbing temples.

She scowled at him. "Nasty piece of work, aren't you? Are you ever friendly to anyone, I wonder, or are you always this bad-tempered? You have a terrible reputation, did you know that? You scare people. Is that really the way you want to be, or can you just not help yourself? No wonder Isabella wants you dead. What did you do to her, anyway?"

He looked up to the ceiling with an exasperated sigh. "Lord, give me strength! It's almost worth dying to be spared your endless chatter!"

To his surprise, she smiled, and her voice softened.

"Come on. You're here, I'm here. What else are we going to do? We might as well talk."

He stared at her for a long moment before replying. "I found her a husband, that's what I did. Good price, too."

"You sold her, your own sister?"

"I had to. You don't understand how it was. It was her best chance in life. It's not my fault she made a complete mess of it."

"Yes it is, it's all your fault, the whole thing! I saw that husband of hers. He threw me in here for trying to protect her. You sold her to a monster!"

"You're a stupid girl and you know nothing about it!"

She drew herself up and looked him squarely in the eye.

"I'm not a stupid girl! I have a name! It's Meg. And now I'm thirsty from yelling at you, and there's no water in here."

A retort was ready on his lips, but he stopped himself and looked at her again as if for the first time. Her face was flushed, her deep brown eyes fiery, yet there was a sweetness about her, in the round cheeks and full-lipped mouth, the abundant chestnut curls framing her face. She was not a peasant girl, he realized. Her dark green dress, though simple in style, was well made, and of rich material. A gold and green gemstone necklace graced her white throat. She looked back into his eyes with a steady, unwavering gaze.

_She says I scare people,_ he thought. _I'm sure I do. But, she's not afraid of me. Every woman I meet is either slinking away from me in fear and loathing, or trying her best to seduce me. And yet here's this little slip of a girl…._

_She's like Marian. Marian, only more innocent, more open, more honest. And not afraid of me at all._

He felt pleased, and warmed. A tiny ray of sunlight had broken through the unrelieved darkness of his life. He turned and reached for the pitcher of water in the corner of his cell, and passed it to her through the bars.

"Don't call me a stupid girl again," she said as she took the pitcher. Her hands brushed against his.

"I won't, Meg. I'm sorry."

He was rewarded with her smile. An hour later, he could still feel the touch of her hands.

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Meg awoke from sleep, to see Guy watching her from his cell.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"A few hours, I think."

"I'm so hungry. Are you?"

"Yes."

"Don't they ever feed you in here?"

He chuckled. "I get a meal, if you want to call it that, when and if someone thinks of it."

"Do you think they'll feed me? And how long do you think Isabella's husband will keep me locked up in here?"  
"I don't know."

Another hour passed before the prison guard on duty came down the stairs with a tray. Guy recognized him as one of Isabella's more sadistic torturers.

"Hungry, are we, Sir Guy?" the man inquired, with a bitingly sarcastic emphasis on the "Sir".

Guy said nothing, refusing to be baited.

"Got something real good here for you." He slid the tray through the slot in the bottom of the cell door. "Enjoy."

"What about the girl, Meg?"

"Thornton's orders, nothing for her until she learns some respect. Hear that, little girl?"

He leaned against the bars and leered at her. "Maybe if you're real nice to Sir Guy, he might share with you. Or you could be real nice to me—"

Meg shrank back in fear and revulsion.

"Let her alone," said Guy. His voice was quiet, but with a subtle menace in its inflection.

The guard turned back to Guy. "And what are you going to do about it, my fine gentleman? Come charging in to her rescue? You know what? You need to learn some respect, too. And before Walden chops your head off and holds it up for the crowd to spit on, I'm going to teach you some respect."

He moved toward the cell door, intending to confiscate the dinner tray, but one look into Guy's eyes changed his mind. He backed away, sneering, to mask the fear in his coward's heart. A sudden, unfortunate recollection had come to him about Gisborne's reputation—the man never forgot a face, or forgave a wrong.

"Enjoy what time you've got left, Sir Guy," he called out as he retreated up the stairs. "And, little girl, you'd better hope Thornton remembers you, and doesn't leave you down here for me and the other guards to amuse ourselves with!"

Guy saw Meg shudder.

"If he lays a finger on you, it'll be the last thing he does," he told her after the man left, "before I break his neck."

She didn't doubt him. He looked very capable of it.

Guy looked down at the tray to see what the guard had brought. A bowl of thin broth, with nameless chunks floating in it. A loaf of bread from a baking several days ago. Quite stale, but still edible if he picked off the mouldy bits.

Once, when he dined sumptuously in Nottingham Castle every night, he would have seen such food as not fit even for pigs, but now desperate hunger drove him. He tore into the bread, and then looked up at Meg. He had forgotten her hunger, if only for a moment. He broke the loaf in half and handed it to her.

"Guy, no, you're more hungry than I am!" she protested.

"Please, take it. It's terrible, but it's food. Keep your strength up." He passed the bowl and spoon to her.

"Don't know what's in it, but it smells okay. I'll eat when you're done."

She smiled gratefully at him as she took the food. "There must be some good in you yet."

But he shook his head. "You don't know me."

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Meg fell silent after the shared meal, and lay huddled on her bench. She stayed quiet for so long that Guy thought she had fallen asleep again. He sat on the straw-covered floor, arms wrapped around his knees, and stared at the wall, lost in his own thoughts.

"Are you scared?"

Her question, spoken very softly, shook him out of his reverie. He turned and saw that she was peering at him through the bars.

"What of?" he responded after a moment's pause.

"What of, you say! Your execution."

"Do I look scared?"

She considered this. "Actually, no. Terrible, yes. Dreadful, to tell you the truth, as far as personal appearance goes. But not frightened. I'm almost impressed. It's as if you've got a clear conscience."

"Why shouldn't I have?"

"Because of all the awful things you've done! I've heard stories about you. I hope they're not true. People don't appear to like you very much, though, so they must be true. I mean, no one actually seems sorry that you're on the way out, do they? You must be very lonely, I think. Does that not make you feel sad?"

"I can't help what people think of me. I've done a lot of things I regret, but I can't do anything about the past now. If I could change it, I would. But I can't. What's done is done, and if I am to die to pay for my wrongs, so be it."

"I don't believe you really feel that way. Is your life so empty that you don't care whether you live or die?"

He found he couldn't answer her_. Do I care?_ he thought._ Have I really cared about anything since Marian died? Am I nothing but an empty shell of a man now, drifting through each day until someone puts an end to my existence?_

_Not frightened? I'm glad that you think me so brave, Meg. I only wish it were true. If you knew how many nights I've lain awake in a cold sweat, imagining that last moment, that last breath, before the axe falls…._

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_

Thornton sat back in the chair, his muddy boots up on the Sheriff's desk, and a satisfied smile on his face as he watched his wife carry in his supper tray.

"I have to say, my dear," he told her, "you've got a cozy little setup here. Prince John must have taken quite a fancy to you to give you this position. What did he want in return? Did you sleep with him?"

His question was casual, but she knew him too well to believe his intent was anything but another excuse to abuse and terrify her.

"No, I certainly did not. I was given the position because of my qualifications."

He threw back his head and laughed. "A woman Sheriff of Nottingham! What is the world coming to?"

He sat down at the table. "So, what are your plans for this great city, my lovely wife?"

"I intend," she said quietly, as she set the tray down, "to give these people freedom."

"Freedom? Freedom? From what? Taxes? Justice? Really, Isabella, you haven't a clue, do you? You'll never rule effectively if you don't rule with an iron hand. That's a tender-hearted, weakling woman's idea of rule, if I ever heard it. The peasants will revolt against you the moment they see any softness in you. No, you've got it all wrong. Good thing I found you, isn't it? It's plain that you need me here."

He shoveled the food into his mouth. His table manners had not improved. He ate like a dog, gulping and swallowing without tasting or caring what he ate. She looked at him with disgust, but said nothing.

"Tomorrow," he informed her, as he slurped down a tankard of ale, "things are going to change around here."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I'm taking control. It's obvious to me that you don't know how to run this show. Now, don't worry, you can keep your title. It pleases me to see you making a fool of yourself. But, it'll be me behind the scenes from now on, calling the shots."

"You can't do that!"

"Isabella, do you want more of what you already got this morning?"

She put her hand up against her bruised cheek, and looked away from him.

"That's what I thought. Good girl, you're not so very stupid. You can learn after all. Tomorrow, I'm going to start by collecting overdue taxes. Yes, we'll start there. It's time these people understand once and for all that you mean business."

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Robin and Much made a trip into Nottingham, and went back to the outlaw camp that evening with troubled hearts.

"Thornton? Who is he?" asked Tuck.

"Isabella's husband. He's been looking for her. He showed up here two days ago and has, from what we can gather, taken over the office of Sheriff."

"How can he do that?" Allan wanted to know.

"Easily enough. He's one of Prince John's cronies from way back. He's got a huge estate in Shrewsbury. A powerful man, not someone you'd want to cross. I knew him when we were younger. He fought in the Crusades, and distinguished himself mostly for his ruthlessness in battle. A nasty character in more ways than one."

"And this is the man Gisborne chose to marry his sister to? No wonder she hates him," said John.

"Well, I'm not so certain that he knew what Thornton was like when he married off his sister to him. They were both very young. She was fourteen, which would have made Guy, let's see, only about eighteen. I suspect Isabella may have exaggerated things a bit to paint her brother in the worst possible light."

"So, what happened today? You said you had words with him."

"I did. He and his men, and guards from the castle, went through the marketplace early today, collecting taxes. At least that what's he called it. Actually, it was nothing less than extortion under threat of imprisonment. I told him so, too."

Much nodded. "Yes, and nearly got yourself arrested as a result."

"Okay, Much, don't rub it in. It was stupid, I know. But it just burned me. Those people were trying to make a little profit today, to feed their families, and he stole whatever profit they made."

"So, what should we do?"

"I warned him to lay off, and leave town before something bad happens to him. That was just before Much and I ran for our lives," said Robin, with a grin at Much, who was not quite so amused.

"Yes, you did," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Really, Robin, you're going to be the death of me yet. Not to mention yourself."

"Lads, this is a delicate situation," Robin told them all. "I think for now we should just lay low, and see what happens. It's more Isabella's problem at this point than ours. Let's see how she deals with it. If we can think of a way to get back the money Thornton took from those people today, well and good. But right now our concern is getting Gisborne out of her clutches. Day after tomorrow, we go to Nottingham."

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The tramp of feet sounded on the stairs. It was Isabella, accompanied by two guards.

"Lady Isabella!" cried Meg. She got up from her bench and ran to the cell door.

"Meg, I've come to release you," Isabella said.

"What about your husband, Thornton?"

"You needn't worry about him again, my dear. He'd dead."

"Dead?"

"Yes, and the world is well rid of him. Come, let's get you out."

One of the guards unlocked the door, and Meg rushed out, to be embraced by Isabella. Another guard removed her shackles. Guy watched silently from his cell.

"All is well," Isabella reassured her. She rubbed Meg's wrists. "Look what they've done to you, the brutes! Come with me, we'll get that looked after."

She started toward the stairs with Meg, but the young woman balked.

"Wait! What about Guy?"

"What about him?"

"You are going to release him, too, aren't you?"

Isabella rounded on her. "Release him? No! He's our enemy! Can't you see that?"

"But—"

"Do you not see the poison of men, Meg? A few hours in a cell with a cold-hearted killer like my brother, and even a smart girl like you loses her wits. They can't be trusted, any of them. No, he can stay right there. And he's going to get exactly what he deserves. Come on, Meg. Let's get out of this stinking hole."

She took Meg's arm and led her up the stairs. Meg looked back over her shoulder, to see Guy sink down on the floor and bury his face in his hands.

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Meg spent the rest of the day in company with Isabella. The Lady Sheriff was kindness itself to her young acquaintance. Meg found it increasingly difficult to reconcile the woman she saw before her with the one who had condemned her own brother to a brutal death without a shred of remorse. After a time, feeling herself on safe ground, she attempted once more to ask Isabella to consider freeing Guy, only to experience, to her shock, the woman's mood change rapidly.

"Do not speak of it to me again!" she answered Meg sternly, her eyes flashing with anger. Meg was taken aback, but in the next instant Isabella was sweet again.

"Come, my dear. I have some ideas I'd like to share with you about my plans for Nottingham."

Meg listened and tried to respond, but she could not stop thinking of Guy. While Isabella was occupied with one of her sergeants, she slipped off to the castle kitchen, collected some food, and quietly made her way back to the prison. Guy was lying on his bench, his face to the wall, but he sat up at her approach. He came over to the door and hunkered down.

"Meg, you shouldn't be here."

"I brought you something to eat." She knelt to face him and handed him the food.

He shook his head. "Thank you, but no."

"You must eat, for my sake. Please, it's the least I can do. I can't do anything else for you. Isabella won't let you out."

"You've already done more than enough for me."

"No, I haven't. I haven't done anything!"

"Yes, you have. You've done more than you'll ever know. I've been running away all this time, like the coward I am, but you've helped me face it. You've made me think."

"About what?"

"Someone I used to know, long ago. You're so much like her, Meg. But she's gone…." His voice tore at her heart. It was full of pain, and regret.

"She cared about me. She tried to help me. She saw good where there was none. She made me want to be a better man—"

"What happened?" Meg asked very gently.

"She died because of me. It was my fault. It was all my fault, Meg. I destroyed her, I destroyed everything—"

He bowed his head, but not before she saw the tears on his face. His hands gripped the bars. She covered them with hers.

"Guy!"

"Go, leave me, please. There's nothing more you can do. Isabella mustn't find you here. Go, now!"

She squeezed his fingers, and he looked up at her one last time before she stood up to leave. She saw his face, tear-stained but composed, watching her through the bars, as she hurried back up the stairs.

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Isabella sat at her desk writing a letter to Prince John. Meg, standing nearby, could not help but overhear the contents of the letter, as Isabella spoke her thoughts aloud while she wrote. What she heard horrified her.

"In symbol of my loyalty, I offer you a gift, etc.", which gift would consist of a sizable amount of the gold taken from Thornton, and Guy's head in a basket, followed by the head of Robin Hood as soon as he was captured. Isabella then wrote to assure Prince John that Hood's death would not be long in the future.

Meg listened to the woman's plans for revenge against her brother, and the evidence of her insatiable lust for power, and was appalled. That the woman was bent on killing her own brother was bad enough, but to wish Robin Hood dead as well! Why, he was the hero of the poor of Nottingham, a man who loved justice, who had fought courageously against the corrupt rule of Sheriff Vaisey!

Meg was not a peasant. She had been born to a life of privilege. Her father was a well-to-do merchant in Nottingham. But the plight of the poor had always distressed her. She did not turn a blind eye to it, as many others of her class did. Robin of Locksley was the champion of the oppressed. Why would Isabella not join with him to right the injustices the people faced? It made no sense to her.

She watched Isabella composing her letter. As she did, the mask of kindness and sweetness fell away, and revealed something underneath that shocked and dismayed Meg. That she had been so taken in, and had even felt honoured by the Lady Sheriff's attentions!

Meg knew she had to act, and she didn't have much time. While Isabella's attention was elsewhere, she stealthily took the prison keys lying on her desk and scurried back out the door.

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"Meg, what are you doing?"

"I can't let her kill you, I just can't!"

Guy watched in astonishment as she, breathless and trembling, fumbled with the heavy ring of keys. In a short time she had the cell door open, and then bent down to unlock his shackles. He scrambled to his feet as the chains slipped off.

"Meg!"

She smiled up at him. He took her hand, and ran his other hand gently down her cheek. Deep, incredulous joy suffused his face.

"You would do this for me?"

"Yes, Guy."

They stood looking into each other's eyes for a long moment, before she urged him, "Come, we've got to get out!"

He needed no other incentive. Hand in hand they fled back up the stairs. He knew Nottingham Castle inside and out, every room, every passageway. Every secret escape route. She, brave, sweet girl, had done her part. Now he would get them both out.

They had nearly made their way out of the castle, to safety, before they were caught.

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"I trusted you!"

Isabella delivered a resounding slap across Meg's face.

"I trusted you, and this is how you reward me!"

Guy, his hands bound once more in chains, struggled against the guards who held him fast. A month ago they never would have been able to restrain him, but now, weakened by hunger and the cruel beatings, his efforts were in vain.

"Guy doesn't deserve to die!" Meg cried back, holding a hand to her face.

"You foolish, stupid girl! How dare you do this to me!" screamed Isabella, eyes wild. Then her manner turned deadly calm.

"Perhaps it's better this way after all. Now I see for sure that the only person I can trust is myself."

She swept both of them with a cold, contemptuous gaze.

"How sweet of her, Guy, to want to save your despicable hide from a well-deserved punishment. So sweet. You two lovebirds want to be together so much, fine. You'll both die."

She motioned to the guards. "Lock them up, in the same cell. Tomorrow they will share the same fate."

"Shall I beat him, Lady Isabella?" asked the head guard.

"No, I want him to be able to walk out tomorrow in front of the whole of Nottingham. Give them water, but no food."

"Isabella, no!" Guy pleaded, as he and the sobbing Meg were dragged from the room. "She didn't know what she was doing!"

But Isabella paid no more heed to either of them.

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Guy and Meg were shoved roughly back into Guy's cell. The prison guard who had brought food the day before was there to taunt them. The nearness of Gisborne's execution had caused the man to lose all fear of him.

"Didn't get far, did you, Sir Guy?" he mocked as the other guards shackled Guy's legs to the bench. "There, that'll stop you from running again."

He locked the cell door and looked in on his charges.

"I just got word that my friend Walden is out sick, so guess who's been asked to perform the scheduled executions tomorrow morning?" An ugly grin spread across his face.

"You'd better hope, Sir Guy, that I can find the time tonight to sharpen my axe so it isn't as dull as a butter knife, and pray I'm not too clumsy so early in the morning. I'm a bit out of practice, you see. Could be that it might take a few swings to cut your noble head all the way off!"

Guy said nothing, so he turned his cruelty on Meg, who was clinging to her cellmate's arm.

"Too bad about you, little girl. Should have been nice to me when you had the chance. We could've had some fun together. But now it's too late, darling. Tell you what, I'll be nice just the same. I'll do you first tomorrow, so your gallant gentleman friend Sir Guy can watch."

Guy's self-control broke. He pulled with all his might on the chains that bound him.

"You'll die and rot forever in hell for this!"

The guard only laughed. "Good night, and pleasant dreams! I look forward to seeing you both bright and early tomorrow!"

His footsteps died away. Guy yanked on the chains for a minute more, but soon realized the effort was futile.

_What I wouldn't give at this moment,_ he thought,_ to see Robin Hood come charging in with his gang, to get Meg out of here. He'd leave me for sure, but at least Meg would make it out. He would succeed where I failed. Where's a clever outlaw when you need one?_

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_

"Meg, I'm so sorry I got you into this."

"It's not your fault. I came back on my own."

"You shouldn't have. Why did you? You shouldn't be here. This has nothing to do with you."

"I didn't want to see you die, not when I could stop it."

Her face flushed, and she couldn't quite meet his eyes as she added, "I-I've always quite liked you."

"You don't know me, Meg. You wouldn't like me if you did, trust me."

She smiled softly at him, and caressed his arm.

"You're here, I'm here. We're both going to die tomorrow. There's no way I'm going to sleep tonight, knowing that. So, let's talk. Tell me why you're so terrible. Come on, pretend I'm a priest, and confess all your deep, dark secrets and sins to me."

He started to smile at her, until he realized she was serious. _She's right_, he thought. _There's no more reason to hold back at this point. Might as well clear my conscience. She'll hate me for it, but perhaps it will make it easier tomorrow when she dies because of me._

They talked all night, sitting together on the bench, holding each other for warmth and mutual comfort.

By morning he had told her everything. And, to his utter disbelief, she was still in his arms.


	19. Chapter 19 The Rescue

THE RESCUE

The day of the execution dawned clear and bright, after a night of heavy rain. Robin and his men set off at sunrise for Nottingham, and arrived just as the morning sun was beginning to warm the cool and damp air. They slipped unobtrusively into the town square, where a crowd was already beginning to gather.

"Big doings in Nottingham today, gents!" commented Allan. "Not trying to be funny, but don't these people have anything better to do with their time than watch some poor sod get his head whacked off?"

"It's incredible what passes for entertainment," joked Archer, and the two men grinned at each other. He and Allan were already fast friends.

"All right, enough, you two," Robin smiled. "Tuck, are you ready to put the diversion into play?"

"I'm right on it, Robin." Tuck disappeared, melting unnoticed into the crowd.

"Be careful, all of you. I mean it," Robin said to the others. "I don't want to lose any of you over this business. If things get too heated, pull out. As soon as they bring Gisborne out, we go into action."

An hour passed before Isabella made her appearance. By then the sun was well up, and the crowd had grown. Robin smiled as he observed the relatively small number of guards present. Tuck's diversion—a mysterious fire in the guard's barracks—had evidently been effective in keeping them away. So much the better. Still, he was nervous. Gisborne's execution was a much-anticipated event. They were all taking a chance by rescuing him openly in front of the whole city.

Isabella seated herself prominently at the top of the castle stairs, surrounded by her guards. As the time neared, the crowd grew more excited and restless. They pressed close to the execution platform, jostling for space and the best views. A low hum of voices, a sea of anxious faces, until finally Isabella, arrayed regally in a velvet dress and a long cloak, stood up.

Guy and Meg waited in the dark doorway of the prison. The sound of the crowd came to them. Meg turned to look up at Guy. Her face was pale, her eyes wide and frightened.

"Guy, I'm so scared!"

"When it comes, Meg, it will be very quick." It was the only comfort he could give her.

"Bring out the prisoners!" commanded Isabella.

They were led outside, into the bright sunlight, to the ominous sound of drums, and an initial chorus of derisive jeers and catcalls. Isabella stood silent and impassive as she watched her hated brother, and the girl who had betrayed her trust in league with him, brought up to stand before the two wooden blocks, and the waiting executioner.

Many in the crowd gasped at the unexpected sight of the lovely young woman beside Sir Guy. The taunts, meant for Gisborne, faded away as they stared at her. Some wondered amongst themselves who she was and what crime she had committed to merit such a cruel death. Others, who had been present at Meg's "trial", recognized her, and were shocked, but just as in the dark as to the reason why she was now facing execution.

Isabella did not leave them in suspense. Her clear voice rang out over the square.

"Good people of Nottingham, today we gather to witness the carrying out of justice. As you all know from bitter experience, my brother, Guy of Gisborne, is an enemy of the people. This woman, who I trusted, betrayed that trust by trying to help him escape his well-deserved punishment. For this reason, she will suffer the same fate. In future, if anyone challenges my authority in such a way, that person will face the same. We will have order here, and respect for rulership. This is the only way our great city will prosper."

Robin, standing in the crowd with his men and Archer, his hood drawn down over his face, knew that things had suddenly gotten a lot more complicated. A deep frown creased his brow. He bit his lip in thought, then turned to his men.

"Looks like we're going to have to adjust the plan a bit, lads."

"The girl?" said Allan. "Haven't we seen her before?"

"She's the same one we saw three days ago. You know, the one who didn't like men, or at least didn't like the ones her father was trying to force on her," said Djaq. "How did she get mixed up in this?"

"God alone knows," answered Robin, "but we can't let her die, that's clear. After all, she only did the same thing we're trying to do."

"What about Gisborne? Are we still getting him out?"

"Yes, but here's what we're going to do…."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Have the condemned any final words?"

Meg whimpered and turned her tear-streaked face toward Guy. He had never felt more wretched, more helpless, and more afraid, than at that moment._ Another innocent woman about to die because of me,_ he thought, as the sound of her terrified sobs came to him._ Marian, now Meg. There's no escape for me now. This is the end. When I wake up, it'll be in hell._

But he met her eyes with a tender smile, imparting to her some of the courage he didn't know he possessed, before he looked up at Isabella.

Robin's attention was fixed on the man so long his enemy. The man on the platform, facing the axe, was not the one he remembered. This man was gaunt, dirty, defeated, broken in heart and spirit._ I can guess,_ thought Robin, _what they did to him in that prison. He got a taste of his own, no doubt of it. It's on his face, in his eyes. They made him suffer._

He saw Guy look up at Isabella with an entreating gaze that would have melted the coldest heart. Robin's heart was far from cold. He felt a pang of compassion as he heard Guy's plea, not for himself, as he had expected, but for Meg. Guy spoke softly, with such a humble demeanor that the crowd stopped their murmuring and became very still.

"Very well, Isabella, you win. Do what you like with me. Kill me if you must. God knows I deserve it. But please, not her. She's done nothing to deserve this! Please, I'll do whatever you want. Just don't take her life!"

All eyes turned to the Sheriff. Robin looked closely at the the townspeople, who only moments before had been so eager to see Gisborne's blood spilled on the block. Now, on many faces, he saw pity, and not just for Meg. Isabella, however, was unmoved. Her hate consumed her. Even Meg was nothing to her anymore. She looked down at her brother with immeasurable contempt.

"Proceed with the executions!"

The prison guards pushed Guy and Meg forward onto their knees, and forced their heads down on the blocks. Meg cried out in the extremity of fear. Guy called desperately once more for mercy.

"Isabella, for God's sake! She's just an innocent girl!"

"I said proceed!"

Archer turned to his brother. "Robin?"

In reply, Robin lifted and aimed his bow. "For once, little brother, I agree with Gisborne."

The executioner raised his axe over Meg's head. But before he could swing the blade, his body jerked and fell backward off the platform and onto the people below, an arrow through his chest. The axe flew from his hands and into the air, and spiraled downward on a deadly course toward Meg once again. However, to the amazement of the crowd, it was struck by a second arrow and spun sideways, to land with a heavy thud on the other block, wedged deeply in the wood scant inches from Guy's head.

Pandemonium broke loose after that. Screams punctuated the air as the spectators, believing themselves under attack, dispersed in every direction. Isabella shrieked orders to the guards, who rushed forward, only to find themselves beset by Robin Hood's outlaw gang. Robin and Archer fought their way through to the stairs of the platform in time to witness Meg being dragged back inside the prison doors by two guards. There was no time to reach her.

"Archer! Let's get Gisborne first!"

"What about the girl?"

"We'll find her, don't worry. She's in less danger than he is right now. Come on!"

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Guy, his hands bound behind him, still kneeling, his heart full of Meg, watched the chaos around him and waited for death. It appeared all too soon, in the form of Robin, charging up over the stairs and toward him, bow in hand. Another man followed him, armed with a short sword.

"Hood! I knew it was you. Come to finish the job?"

His words were defiant, but Robin saw the naked fear in the man's face.

"Archer, keep a lookout."

Robin set down his bow and unsheathed the dagger strapped to his boot. He moved behind Guy.

"Here, hold still."

Guy misunderstood his intention and flinched. He turned his head to shout at Robin.

"You're going to kill me, with no means to defend myself! I should have expected as much—"

"Shut up, Gisborne," said Robin coolly, as he cut through the man's bonds. "Relax. And hold still, will you? You're much too jumpy. This is a rescue, not part two of your execution."

He pulled the ropes off Guy's wrists.

"You know," he went on, "if you'd been paying better attention, you could have done this yourself. I dropped that axe where I did so you could cut yourself free."

"Really?" Guy shot back scornfully. "I thought you did it just to scare the &%*# out of me!"

"Did it work?"

Guy saw, to his astonishment, that Robin was smiling at him, a cheeky, teasing grin no less. He looked from Robin to his companion. Not a face he recognized. Someone new to Robin's gang? A young man, wiry but strongly built, with unruly brown hair, merry blue eyes, and an attractive, good-natured countenance. His wide, mischievous smile was a mirror of Robin's. Guy stared at him. There was something about him, something oddly familiar….

"Come on, let's get you out of here," said Robin.

He helped Guy to his feet, and together the three men left the platform. They found a moment's respite from the milling, still panicked crowd in a doorway across the square. Guy turned to Robin, a bewildered, apprehensive, and very questioning look in his eyes. It was not hard for Robin to read his thoughts.

"Wondering why we rescued you?"

"Are you planning to tell me?"

"Well, Gisborne, it would seem that you and I are—how do I put this?—almost family. Meet Archer. He's your brother."

"What?"

"Your little brother. And, Guy, he's my brother, too. Your mother, my father."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Allan and Little John rejoined Robin, Archer, and the dazed and still uncomprehending Gisborne in a back alley of Nottingham, as arranged.

"Good work, lads. Now to get that chest of money, if we can find out where Isabella's hidden it, and rescue the girl. Archer, you come with me. We'll catch up with Will and Djaq, Much, and Tuck. Allan and John, get Gisborne and yourselves out of Nottingham and back to the camp."

Little John's protest was immediate and vehement. "Back to the camp? With Gisborne? This wasn't part of the plan, Robin!"

Robin gripped the big man's arm. "I know, John. Please, don't argue with me. I'm depending on you. And you, Allan!"

He turned to Guy. "Here, this is yours. You might need it."

Guy looked down to what Robin held in his outstretched hands. His sword, belt, and sheath. Taken from him at his arrest.

"We found it in your sister's bedchamber earlier today," Robin told him. "She had it hung up on her mantlepiece, like a trophy."

"You're—you're giving me this?"

"If I know I can trust you not to use it on my friends, yes."

Slowly he took the weapon from Robin, and looked up. Their eyes met. Guy nodded.

"You can trust me."

"Good. Go with my men. You'll be safe at the camp. It's well hidden. I'll explain everything to you when I get back. The rest of us will find the girl, don't worry."

"Her name is Meg," Guy told him. "Robin, she's innocent. Please, don't let her die."

"We won't. Your turn to trust me. Go with Allan and John. And be careful, all of you!"

"Come on, Guy!" said Allan, tugging on his arm. "Let's go!"

As the three men disappeared from view, running in the direction of Nottingham's main gate, Robin chuckled.

"What is it?" Archer asked.

"I just realized. That's the first time Guy's ever called me by my first name since we were children."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The trio raced to the castle gate, only to find it blocked by several guards.

"I'll distract them," Allan told the other two, "you get yourselves out." And without another word he charged in, both of his swords drawn.

Guy stood rooted to the spot for several seconds as he watched Allan, his former enemy turned friend, then enemy again, and now rescuer, drive back the startled guards with a ferocious, two-handed attack. _Where in the name of heaven did he learn to do that?_ Guy thought, before he leapt forward himself to back Allan up.

"Come on, we'll all take them!" he called over his shoulder to Little John, only to discover that the burly ruffian was not with him. He whirled about and saw that John was already engaged in a fierce battle with another guard who had crept up behind them. Knocked off his feet, he was now struggling to get up while fending off the guard's sword thrusts with his staff.

John was all brute strength, not speed. The guard was young and lightning quick. Things might have gone very badly for John, for Allan had his hands full already and could not help. Guy took in the situation within seconds. His razor-honed fighter's reflexes kicked in and he acted, without further thought or hesitation.

"John, hang on!"

The sight of Gisborne bearing down on him was too much for the guard. He stopped his attack on John and backed rapidly away, sword held defensively in front of him. Guy slashed at him with all his strength, and the man fell back, eyes wide. He delivered two more blows in rapid succession, which the overwhelmed guard barely managed to parry, before John's cudgel connected with the back of the man's knees and sent him sprawling, sword useless under him. Guy was on him in an instant like a rapacious bird of prey. The guard felt the sharp point of a sword at his throat, and looked up into Gisborne's cold eyes.

_So easy_, thought Guy,_ so easy to kill a man. One quick thrust and it's over. I've done it so many times before. _He lifted his sword to strike, but then he stopped, and gazed down into the anguished face of his intended victim.

The man was pleading with him, hands raised in a pathetic attempt to ward off the lethal strike.

"No, don't, please! Please, Sir Guy, don't kill me!"

Guy realized suddenly that he knew the man. Ralf DeBracy, youngest son of a minor landholder, and fairly new to the castle guard. Surprisingly good with a sword for a thoughtful, polite, soft-spoken young man who was more of a scholar than a soldier. Guy had discovered their mutual interest in reading one day, in a casual conversation with him, and had subsequently loaned him several books, to the lad's delight and gratitude. He was newly married, with a child on the way, and young enough to still believe guarding the castle was a big adventure. Until now, when Death stared him in the face.

Guy's hands relaxed on the hilt of his sword._ He's no different than I was once,_ he thought, as he looked down at the young man, hardly more than a boy, cringing on the ground. _Doing his job, following orders. Trying to stay alive. Just like me._

_Marian wanted me to be a better man. She said I wasn't a killer. Meg did, too. I wish I could believe them. I've killed all my life. Still, I've got to start somewhere, with someone, if I'm ever going to change. Too much blood on my hands already. Now is as good a time as any to start being that better man._

He lowered his sword. By this time John was at his side.

"You okay?" Guy asked him.

"Yes, fine," John answered him, a bit gruffly, as he'd gotten the wind knocked out of him and hadn't quite caught his breath. Not for anything was John going to let on to the likes of Gisborne that in truth his heart was still thudding wildly against his ribs. Some of the guard's sword thrusts had come perilously close to finding their mark.

"Would you like a shot at him now?"

John caught Guy's sardonic smirk, and gave a short laugh.

"You're not going to kill him?"

Guy shook his head.

"Hmph! Well, there's a first time for everything!" John grunted, and, picking up his cudgel, he expertly dealt the young guard a blow that rendered him speedily unconscious.

They turned their attention to Allan, who had wounded or knocked senseless most of the guards. The remainder were worn down. It took little convincing to drive them off, assailed as they were by the terrifying Gisborne, his bear-like companion beating at them with a thick, heavy staff, and a maniac wielding two swords. They scattered in all directions, leaving the gate unguarded. The gate was soon opened, and the three men ran through it and headed for the safety of Sherwood.

Only when they reached the cover of the trees and paused for breath did the full realization hit Little John. Gisborne, the man he hated, loathed above all others, and regarded with an undying animosity, had just saved his life.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Allan and John moved through the trees toward the outlaw camp with swift, tireless strides, but Guy, unused to such long hikes, as he never walked anywhere when he could ride, was soon trailing them some distance behind. The two men stopped to wait for him. John turned to Allan with a firm shake of his head. His mouth was set in a grim line.

"Allan, what are we doing, anyway? Have you thought about this? Bringing Gisborne to the camp!"

"I know, John, but Robin told us to. He said we'd all meet back there, after they get Meg. You heard him."

"But, Gisborne! What's Robin thinking?"

"Aw, come on, Guy just saved your sorry backside, didn't he?"

John looked down. "Yes, I guess he did." He was silent for a moment, before he continued with his argument.

"But this is Gisborne we're talking about, Allan! This I do not like! What are we supposed to do with him if Robin isn't there? Take his sword and tie him up? Or shake hands and sit down to dinner with him?"

"Look, John, I really don't think he's in any shape to give us a hard time. He looks all in. Let's just get to the camp and see what happens."

"We were supposed to get Gisborne out of Nottingham, nothing more. Robin said nothing about taking him to the camp. This is one of his half-a-plans, I'd say. He's making it up as we go along, and I'm not so sure I like the direction it's going in."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Guy struggled up the low rise, panting for breath and cursing his weakened body. The long weeks in prison had taken their toll. The last of his strength had been spent fighting to get out of Nottingham. He reached the top of the rise—bent double, winded, and in pain. The welts from the last beating he'd endured were broken open and bleeding through his shirt.

_Meg. Beautiful, sweet girl, she'll never know what she did for me if Hood doesn't get her out. Should have stayed behind to help. No, I'm no use. Can't fight anymore. If anyone can get her out, Robin can. Clever bastard. But Archer, my brother? Impossible. There was no child. My mother and father died, and Robin's father died, in the fire I set. Robin and I both became orphans that day._

_Robin, and Archer. Almost family? No, I have no one. Dead parents, and a sister who wants me dead. And Marian, nothing but her memory. She died because of me. Let Meg not die for me. Let her not pay for my crimes. Not her. If Meg dies, I'll wish with all my heart that the executioner's axe had done its work on me._

He straightened up and saw Allan and John on the crest of the next hill, waiting for him. For a moment he contemplated turning and running from them, into the depths of Sherwood Forest, away, far away. But he knew he didn't have the strength to run.

_Where could I go, anyway?_ he mused. _Back to Nottingham? Only death awaits me there. I'm a wanted man, with a hefty price on my head. And not just by Isabella and Prince John. Plenty of villagers ready and eager to do the deed themselves if given the chance. Don't even need the promise of a reward to tempt them. They wouldn't have dreamed of it when I was strong, powerful, well-armed. Oh, no, they ran in terror from me then. But now—_

He smiled ruefully to himself._ Best to go with the outlaws. If I am to die, so be it. Better at Robin's hands. Robin at least will make it quick. I know the man well enough to believe it of him. After all, I, Sir Guy of Gisborne, am an outlaw as well, no different than him._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_  
_

Guy reached them a moment later. Allan took note of the ashen hue of his face, and his laboured breathing.

"When was the last time you ate anything, Guy?"

"Isabella kept me on pretty short rations," he replied. "Not much for—how long was I in there?"

"Close to a month, I'd say. We're almost to the camp. I'll get you something to eat when we get there."

"Thank you." Even John heard the gratitude in Guy's voice.

The two men adjusted their pace to allow Guy to keep up with them. By the time they reached the camp, both were supporting him on either side with a hand under his arms.

Allan motioned Guy to one of the benches as he rummaged in Much's kitchen. He found some bread and cheese, and gave it to Guy, who devoured it like a starving dog.

"Sorry I can't offer better," Allan said. "Much is our camp cook."

Guy looked up at his onetime confederate, with a smile that was neither sarcastic nor sneering.

"It's more than I've eaten in a long time, Allan," he said. "Again, thank you."

He stood up and reached toward his sword belt. Allan heard John's sharp intake of breath. So did Guy. He turned to John as he unbuckled the belt and handed it and his sword to John.

"Here, take it. If you want to search me, go ahead, but that's all I've got on me," he said.

He shrugged. "I know you don't trust me. But I can tell you, I haven't got the strength in me right now to fight either one of you, let alone both, even if I wanted to."

He sat back down and faced the two men with a trace of his old arrogance on his face. Even in defeat he was proud. Allan felt strangely pleased. He knew the man far better than John did. Guy broken and despairing on the execution block had been, for him, a pitiful sight.

A wary exchange of glances followed between the two outlaws and their camp guest. It might have mollified John somewhat if he had known that, inside, Guy was as uncomfortable as they were. When Guy spoke again, Allan, at least, saw the man's demanding tone and the proud tilt of his head for what it was, nothing more than a cover-up for his fear and uncertainty.

"So, what happens now?" Guy asked, directing a level gaze at both of them in turn.

"Assuming Hood and company come back in one piece, what's next? Are you all going to hang me from the highest tree in Sherwood? Or am I to be shown mercy because I have a brother who is also Robin's brother, or so I've been told? Now, you tell me, and don't lie to me! Is it true?"

Allan and John looked at each other, unsure of what to answer, or how much Guy should be told. Or what fate was in the works for their erstwhile enemy. Robin had been quite vague while making plans for the man's rescue. "Let's see how he behaves first" was all he had said.

They were spared the necessity of answering, however, as Robin, the rest of the gang, and a disheveled and frightened Meg, appeared over the hill at that moment.

"Glad to see you all made it!" said Robin, grinning and holding aloft several bags of loot. Much and Will carried the chest containing the rest of Thornton's ill-gotten gains that they had taken from Isabella.

"Well, the whole of Nottingham is in an uproar," Robin told the earlier arrivals. "Isabella's hopping mad. And Thornton's dead."

"Dead?" said John and Allan at the same time.

"Isabella did him in. She admitted it, when we confronted her and took the money he stole. She poisoned him herself. No great loss to anyone. I warned him to leave town while he still could. She also saw to it that his men never made it back to Shrewsbury to tattle on her, either."

He turned to catch Gisborne's reaction to the news of his brother-in-law's demise, not aware that he already knew of it, but Guy's attention was elsewhere.

"Guy!" Meg pushed past the others and rushed to him, flinging her arms around him.

"Meg! Thank God you're safe!" he cried. He held her tight in the strong circle of his arms, stroking her hair and kissing her face as she clung to him.

Robin and the other outlaws stared at the tableau before them, and then at each other. Much looked embarrassed. Allan's brows flew up nearly to his hairline, and he gave a low whistle.

"Isn't she the girl who said men were so stupid, and she hated them?" whispered Djaq to Will and Much. "And now she likes—Gisborne?"

Robin swiftly came to the realization that there must have been more going on between Guy and Meg Bennett in that prison cell than he knew!

Meg suddenly drew back from Guy in alarm, and looked down at her hands. They were smeared with his blood.

"Guy, you're bleeding!" she cried. "You're hurt!"

"I'm okay," he replied, brushing away her hands, but she wouldn't have it.

"No, you're not!" She led him back to the bench. "Someone help me!"

While the others gathered around, Tuck and Djaq eased Guy's shirt off him. The black-dyed linen had hidden what was underneath. Meg let out a gasp, Djaq and Tuck exchanged worried glances over Guy's lowered head, Robin's stomach churned, and even Will felt a pang of sympathy.

Across the broad expanse of his chest, down his well-muscled back and his big shoulders, his body was criss-crossed with angry red welts, some of them bleeding. Dark bruises and burns covered the rest.

"Well, what are you all looking at?" Guy muttered. "What did you think happened to me in prison? Did you imagine I laid there all day with my feet up, taking a nap?"

His voice faded to a whisper.

"My darling little sister's idea of fun. Paying me back. She did, she did…."

His eyes closed, and he swayed on the bench, overcome at last with exhaustion, pain, and too many close brushes with mortality for one day. Robin and Archer rushed to catch him as he toppled to the ground in a dead faint.


	20. Chapter 20 Bad Guy, Good Guy

BAD GUY, GOOD GUY

"There, that should do for now," said Tuck, as he fastened the last bandage across Guy's cut and bruised left shoulder. "We'll recheck those in the morning."

Djaq nodded agreement. "You cleaned those up well, and this salve should help them heal faster."

"A little on his wrists, I think."

"Almost look like rope burn marks. Too much for just some shackles, don't you think?"

"Hmm, yes. We'll have to ask him when he wakes up. Let's get him into bed. Allan, help me lift him."

Allan and Tuck settled their unconscious patient into a bed made up just inside the camp's cave, while Meg fluttered anxiously nearby, an extra pillow and blanket in her arms.

"The best thing for him now is rest," said Tuck. "Have you any more of that sleeping draught, Djaq?"

"I can make up some."

"Give him a little more when he wakes up again."

"Let's keep him asleep for now," agreed Robin. "We have some talking to do before he wakes up. And Meg, we need to get you back to your family."

"What? No, I won't go back there!"

"Your parents will be missing you, won't they? Do they know what nearly happened to you today?"

"My mother died when I was little, and my father won't be missing me. All he wants to do is marry me off!"

Robin grinned, remembering the scene in the town square. "He hasn't succeeded, I see."

"When my mother was dying," she explained, "she made my father promise never to remarry until I was grown up and married myself. She didn't want me to have a stepmother. She had a stepmother, and the woman was awful to her."

"And I take it your father wants to get married again."

"In the worst way. He's been trying to force a husband on me since I was fifteen."

"How old are you now?"

"I'll be twenty, next month."

Robin chuckled at his mistake. She looked younger. "Well, Meg, you're certainly old enough to speak for yourself."

He turned to the other outlaws. "Who does she remind you of?"

"I won't go back to my father," Meg said again. "I'm staying here, with Guy."

"With Guy?"

Robin could see that Meg was firm. She wasn't leaving. He sighed. Another Marian—strong, willful, but courageous. And apparently in love with Guy, of all people. He decided not to argue the point.

"Okay, Meg. We'll talk about this later. But right now I need you to come with me."

"What is it? Where are we going?"

"Can you keep a secret?"

"Yes, of course."

Meg left with Robin. He brought her to Matilda's, and there she met Lady Marian, Robin's wife.

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"Meg, when we first saw you several days ago, you were up before Isabella for refusing to marry the man your father picked for you. At the time, it seemed that Isabella liked you. How on earth did you end up in the dungeon?" asked Robin.

He, Marian, and Meg had returned from the cottage, just as it was growing dark. They gathered around the warm, cheerful campfire with the others. Guy was still fast asleep. It was time to talk. Meg was eager to tell her story. Her fright at her near execution earlier in the day was very vivid, but her sympathy was all for Guy and not herself.

She told them the story of Thornton's arrival, and how it was he who had punished her for defending Isabella, by ordering her imprisoned.

"That's how I met Guy. He was in the cell next to me."

Then she related to them the events of that day, evening, and part of the following day they had shared while together in the prison.

"He was so hungry. I saw what they gave him to eat. They were starving him! And he said they beat him, too."

"Well, we saw the evidence of that, didn't we? All over him!" said Allan.

"It wasn't anything he hasn't done to others, Allan, let's not forget," added Much.

"If any of us wanted revenge on him," said Djaq, "I'd say Isabella did the job for us, and a thorough one at that."

"He shared what little bit of food they gave him with me," Meg continued. "I told him not to, but he made me take it."

Robin and Marian exchanged glances with the others.

"After Isabella told me that her husband was dead, and she freed me, I went back to the prison and brought him some food. I felt sorry for him, and I wanted to do something, anything! He told me I'd already done more than enough for him. I didn't know what he meant. Then he said I reminded him of someone he once knew. He wouldn't tell me who it was, but she had tried to make him a better man. He said she saw good in him where there was none. I asked him what happened to her. I'll never forget what he said, 'I destroyed her, I destroyed everything'. Then he started to cry. I—I didn't know what to do. I wanted to stay with him, but he told me to go. He said I couldn't do anything more for him. I left, but I couldn't stop thinking of him, alone in that cell, knowing what Isabella was going to do to him the next day. That's when I stole the keys and tried to get him out."

"But you didn't get very far."

"No. Isabella's guards caught us. Guy fought like a lion to try to stop them, to give me a chance to get away, but there were too many of them. Isabella was so angry at me! She had us thrown back in the cell, after telling me I was going to die for helping him."

"Isabella hates her brother, obviously, but she took it out on you, too," said Djaq.

"I wonder why?" asked Marian. "From what I understand, from what you told me earlier, Meg, Guy was willing to help her when he found out what Thornton was doing to her. Why didn't she come to him before now?"

"Guy told me about their life in France, after their parents died," said Meg. "He said things were very bad for them. His mother's family wouldn't accept them. He arranged Isabella's marriage because he didn't see any other way for them. He was afraid she would end up on the streets. He trained as a knight with the money Thornton gave him, but he told me he never would have given his sister to Thornton if he had known what the man was like. He loved his sister, no matter what she says otherwise."

"Isabella is nothing if not a mystery," said Robin. "She certainly had us all fooled, myself included."

"Guy told me they didn't see each other for several years after that. When they did, she said nothing to him about her husband's abuse. He did say that she didn't seem happy in her marriage, but he'd seen his share of loveless marriages. I can understand that—my father tried to force me into one. Anyway, Guy thought she would make the best of it. I guess she never did, though. She fooled me, too. She seemed so nice at first. But when I learned what she had planned for Guy, I had to act. I know he's a bad man in many ways. None of you need to tell me. He did himself, believe me. We talked all night, and he told me everything. I should have hated him for it, but I didn't. He was so lonely, and sad. He said he was going straight to hell for the things he'd done. I tried to help him. I said maybe God would understand, but he kept saying it was too late for him. Nothing mattered to him anymore except that I was about to die, too. I think he would have done anything to get me out if he could have."

The others were silent as they each mulled over Meg's story.

"Who was the woman who died because of him?" she asked. "Does anyone here know? At first I thought he meant Isabella, that she died in a way because of what he did when he sold her to that rotten husband of hers. But now I'm not so sure."

"It wasn't Isabella, Meg," said Robin.

"Who, then? Do you know?"

"Yes," said Marian. "It was me."

"You, Lady Marian? How can that be? You're not dead!"

Between Robin and Marian, Meg soon knew the rest of the story, the story Guy had not told her. They spared no detail, including the moment when Vaisey had stabbed her and left her for dead.

"Guy doesn't know Marian is still alive," Robin concluded.

"We have to tell him, Robin, he needs to know! He is so heartbroken over it—he thinks it's all his fault!"

"We're planning to. Tomorrow, when he wakes up. We are all going to talk truth to each other. But, Meg, you've stumbled into quite a messy situation. Are you sure you want to stick around to hear more?"

"I'm in the middle of it now," she replied, "whether I meant to be or not. I'll stay."

"I'm surprised your father wasn't there to try to stop the execution," said Marian. "Was he that angry with you?"

Meg smiled and shook her head. "He was angry, but no, not that angry. The day after Isabella brought me to the castle to be her assistant, my father sent a servant, to tell me he would be away on business for the next week. He made some remark about how he hoped I was happy for defying him in front of everyone. But he wouldn't have left me to die if he had known."

"One thing's for sure," said Robin, "Isabella hasn't done herself any favours by what she did to you, Meg. Ordering an innocent woman executed! The people of Nottingham saw enough of that kind of injustice under Vaisey. They won't stand for it under Isabella. As for Guy, I don't have any idea how he is going to react when we tell him about Marian, or the rest of the story, but let's just be ready for anything."

"Well, we know he has a temper," said Djaq.

"That's putting it mildly," added Will.

"Just be sure there are no weapons within arm's reach," said John. The others laughed.

"John's right, be on your guard!" said Robin. "Just the same, he's half-starved and injured. If he goes after me or anyone else, fine, we'll have to restrain him until he calms down, but please, lads, I'm not out to hurt him. I want him to listen to me, to us. Hold him down, sit on him if you must, but be gentle, okay?"

"I just hope you know what you're getting us into, Robin. We're taking an awful chance even having him here, let alone trying to talk sense into him."

"I know, John. But I promised my father I would do my best. If Gisborne doesn't accept my flag of truce, then at least I'll have tried."

"I wouldn't hold your breath," said Will.

"Listen, all of you. Gisborne, as far as we know, killed Vaisey, and he's obviously not in company with Isabella or Prince John anymore. I'll speak for myself—I'm all done with revenge. I'm done with it. Seeing him up on that platform this morning, facing the axe, was payback enough for me. Right now all I want is to give him a second chance. If he doesn't want to take it from me, fine, I'll send him on his merry way. But I owe that much to him."

"Owe him?"

"That's right, Will. Some of the things that happened to Guy are not his fault, they're mine, and my father's. He's suffered a lot of injustice in his life, and some of it has been our doing."

"The sins of the fathers…."

"What was that, Tuck?"

"It's a sad truth sometimes. The sins of the fathers are visited upon their children. It's up to the children to break that cycle, or it only repeats itself endlessly. I agree with what Robin is doing. It's the right and the just thing to do. The hate and revenge-taking needs to stop."

"Thank you, Tuck," said Robin. "I'll say something else. If I've learned anything in the past year, it's this—revenge poisons your soul. It will consume you if you let it. I don't want to let that happen. I'm done paying Gisborne back. If we don't stop, we will destroy each other just like our fathers did. My hope is that he will feel the same way, and be willing to make peace with us."

"You think he will, Robin?"

"Anything is possible. Isabella brought him about as low as he could go. What has he got at this point? Pretty much nothing. Any ambitions he might have entertained of becoming the new Sheriff went out the window when he dumped Prince John down the well."

"And tried to kill him at the banquet," added John.

"Yes, that, too. Not to mention bopping him in the nose!" Robin laughed. "I'll bet that felt good!"

"You think it was Gisborne who broke the prince's nose?" Allan grinned.

"Of course, who else?"

"If I might add something," said Marian, "I know Guy at least as well as any of you, maybe better. Yes, he's got a temper, we've all seen it in action, but Guy is a very passionate man. He feels deeply. What we have to tell him is going to hurt him. Let's be honest, it's been hard for all of us."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Guy awoke to the sound of Meg's soothing voice and the touch of her hand on his face. It was night, but a fire burned brightly nearby. The murmur of conversation reached him. He was dimly aware that his wounds, though still painful, had been dressed, and he was lying under a clean blanket. He stirred, and attempted to sit up.

"Guy, lay still and rest."

"Is he awake?"

"Yes."

He turned his head and saw the Saracen woman bent over him.

"We'll give him more of this. He needs to sleep."

"I don't want to sleep, I want to get up. Let me up!" he protested, but the words came out slurred and unintelligible. The Saracen lifted his head, and he felt something cool and sweet flow down his throat. She laid his head back down gently on the pillow, while Meg re-tucked the blanket around him.

In a short time, drowsiness washed over him in warm, peaceful waves. The voices, the crackling fire, the pain, faded into darkness. He slipped back into a deep and dreamless sleep, his hand in Meg's.

Robin came in a while later, and looked down on Guy.

"How's the patient?" he asked.

"He's quiet now," answered Meg. "Djaq gave him some more of that sleepy stuff."

"Good. I might take a dose of it myself. I think we all need some rest, especially you, Meg. You had quite a day today."

"I want to stay here with him."

"He'll be fine, he's in good hands. Come on, Marian and I will take you with us to Matilda's cottage for the night. We'll come back first thing tomorrow, I promise."

"Okay." She bent over Guy and kissed his forehead, before she stood up and followed Robin.

It wasn't until they reached the cottage that Meg finally gave expression to her own terrifying experience, and, with Robin and Marian to comfort her, burst out in a flood of tears.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When Guy woke up again, it was morning. He opened his sleep-blurred eyes, and turned to see Allan sitting beside him.

"Finally, you're awake!" said Allan. "I thought you were going to sleep all day. Hungry?"

Guy slowly sat up. He felt weak, groggy, and a little disoriented. "Yes, very."

"Much is fixing you something."

"Where is Robin?"

"Gone. He'll be back soon."

"And Meg?"

"She went with him."

He caught the worried glance from Guy. "She's coming back, too."

Much appeared a moment later with a steaming bowl of stew and a roll of bread. His expression as he approached Robin's longtime enemy was apprehensive, but Guy was interested only in the food. Much watched him wolf it down, and nodded at his "thank you, that was very good". A merely hungry Gisborne, as opposed to an enraged and sword-swinging Gisborne, he could deal with.

Tuck and Djaq appeared, to check on his wounds.

"We need to re-dress those," Tuck told him. "I've made up some more salve that should help them heal faster."

"Before you do," said Guy, feeling awkward making polite requests when he was used to ordering harshly and being obeyed, "if you don't mind, I'd like to clean up a bit."

"Of course," said Tuck. He smiled at Djaq as she, out of sight of their patient, wrinkled up her nose.

A ragged blanket strung up around an area paved with large, flat stones served as the outlaw's summer bathing room. The bathing area had been created by Djaq and Marian. The two women, tired of the smell and dirt, had instituted certain minimum standards of cleanliness at the camp after their return from the Holy Land. The men, especially the unmarried ones, had done plenty of grumbling at first, and they still occasionally complained, but all the same, they did as the women asked, and were admittedly happier for it.

Allan brought him a couple of buckets of warm water and a cake of strong soap. Guy washed off a month's worth of prison filth from his body and hair. The soap stung his welts, but he ignored the pain for the pleasure of being clean again. He shaved the scruffy growth of beard from his face and scrubbed his teeth. He reached for his clothes, loathe to put them back on, as they were as dirty as his body had been, only to find they had been taken, and a fresh set of clothes laid out for him. He pulled on the trousers, which fit him okay except for being a bit short in the legs, buckled on his belt, and walked out to where Tuck and Djaq were waiting.

"This might sting a little," said Tuck as he smeared the aromatic salve on his wounds.

It did sting, quite a bit, but Guy didn't let on. He gritted his teeth while the two dressed his injuries with clean bandages.

"Most of these should heal up very nicely with time," said Tuck, "but you might be left with a few scars."

After they were done he pulled on the tunic. Little John came over with his boots. The mud was wiped off and the leather polished. He handed them to Guy.

"Here, thought I might as well clean these up for you," he said. He swallowed hard. "Least I could do. You saved my life back there in Nottingham, and I haven't thanked you yet."

He couldn't quite look at Gisborne as he said this. Guy sat down to pull on the boots.

"You all risked your lives to get me out of there, don't think I don't know it. Still don't know why you did it, but my guess is I'm about to find out. And I'm well aware of how you feel about me. So, thank you as well."

Their eyes met for a brief moment. It occurred to Guy that he could like John under different circumstances. There was an openness and honesty about the man, an essential kindness, if somewhat rough-hewn, under the surly exterior. All of them were being kind, and Guy was not used to kindness.

He soon learned what had become of his clothes. Allan had taken the dirty, smelly articles, thrown them into a boiling pot of soapy water, rinsed them out, and hung them to dry on a tree limb.

Clean, rested, and fed, Guy was ready when Robin and Meg came back to the camp.


	21. Chapter 21 The Sins of the Fathers

"THE SINS OF THE FATHERS…."

"How are you?" Robin asked him.

"Better, thank you," answered Guy stiffly. He couldn't read Robin's face. Weak, though no longer exhausted, his head a bit more clear than the previous day, he now had the presence of mind to wonder what fate his captors, as he saw the outlaws, had planned for him. He was unarmed, injured, and surrounded by enemies. It was not a situation to put a man at his ease.

Meg went to him and hugged him. Guy noticed she had changed her dress, and was now wearing one that looked vaguely familiar, like something he had seen Marian wearing once. But no, that wasn't possible, he reminded himself. He was confused from sleeping so long, that was the reason.

He embraced Meg gently and kissed her hair. The top of her head came to a spot just below his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" he asked her.

"Yes, I'm fine. Everyone here has been very nice to me. At first they wanted to take me home, but I said I wanted to stay here with you," she said candidly. She gazed up at him. "You look better."

"I'm sure I smell better, too," he replied, with a wry smile.

She returned his smile, and led him over to one of the benches as she saw the others gather around.

"They all want to talk with you," she whispered to him.

"I figured that, Meg," he whispered back as he sat down. He faced Robin, and the countenance that had softened for Meg was now somber and wary once again.

"Well, Gisborne, we got you out with your head still attached to your shoulders," Robin began. "And just in time, too. The fine people of Nottingham have been deprived of their long-awaited entertainment. It's a good thing for you that our camp is so well hidden. Never could find this place, could you?"

"I'm pleased that you find me so amusing, Hood," Guy replied curtly, annoyed at Robin's flippant manner. Robin screaming in his face would have been infinitely preferable to that self-satisfied grin. "But it wasn't your neck on that block. What I'd really appreciate right now is some answers. What the hell is going on? Why did you really rescue me? No lies this time! And what do you plan on doing with—"

"Whoa, easy! Keep your shirt on! You didn't like our rescue?"

"Why did you? So you could have the pleasure of killing me yourself?"

"Gisborne, would we have bothered to patch you up if we were only going to kill you? Hardly. Besides, if I'd wanted you dead, I'd have left you to Isabella. She'd have done the job very neatly for me, and I wouldn't have your blood on my conscience. By the way, what did you think of my little axe trick?"

Guy smiled in spite of himself. "Very clever, and you know it, without needing me to tell you. Best shot in Nottinghamshire, isn't that what you bragged about yourself once?"

Robin laughed. "You knew it was me."

"Of course."

Reluctantly, Guy added, "No one else could have made a shot like that, much as I hate to admit. But you still haven't answered my question. If you didn't want Isabella to kill me, then what? Are you handing me over to Prince John for the reward money, or your own personal satisfaction?"

"No, Gisborne, I'm not."

His voice dropped. "King Richard, then, I take it."

"You've got a lengthy list of people who want you dead, don't you? But, no, Guy, I'm not handing you over to anyone."

"Why not? What's stopping you? You want revenge. Here's your chance. I'm not armed, I can't fight back. So take it!"

"Revenge? For what?"

"Don't play games with me, I'm not in the mood."

Robin leaned in toward him. "You can scowl at me all you like, but we're still going to talk. So, how about if for now you just lay off with the big, bad attitude, and we talk to each other man to man?"

Guy laughed scornfully. "Don't lecture me about attitude! You've got plenty of it yourself!"

Robin grinned at him. "Okay, Guy, I admit, I do. I'll give you that much. I know, because my men tell me that all the time. Let's call it even and both calm down. Now, on the subject of revenge—"

"You know what you want revenge for! My list of crimes a mile long. Trying to assassinate King Richard. Working for Vaisey—"

"Correct us if we're mistaken, but word has reached us that you were in fact the one who killed him. Am I right? Yes? So, Gisborne, it would seem we owe you in no small way. Nottingham is well rid of that monster. Now, if we can just do something about Isabella."

Guy shook it off.

"Then there's—" he began, but then he faltered, unable to continue. The one subject above all others that he wanted to avoid, and, without thinking, he had spoken of it first. It hung there between them, an impenetrable wall of pain and shame that could never be breached. If only Robin would not say her name...

"Marian?" said Robin.

Guy said nothing. He stared at the ground, at his boots, at Robin's boots, anywhere but into the face of his accuser. He could not meet Robin's eyes.

"You didn't kill her, did you?"

Guy looked up. "You know I didn't!" he answered earnestly. "It was Vaisey's doing, you know that." His head sank down again. "But—I was there. I could have, I should have stopped it. It was my fault she was there, and my fault she's dead."

"So, you're not blaming me anymore? That's a switch."

Guy felt a surge of anger at Robin's casual manner. "You make so light of it, Hood," he snapped, "yet you told me she was your wife."

"Is my wife, not was."

"What?"

Robin chuckled, knowing something Guy did not.

"It seems we have a lot to talk about, Guy. And a lot to catch up on."

"I think it's time," he whispered to Allan.

Allan nodded, got up, and walked out of the camp. A moment later he returned, with a dark-haired young woman in a silver grey dress by his side. She looked over the gathering with a smile. Allan a Dale, Little John, Much, Tuck, Will, Djaq—the familiar faces. Archer, so much like Robin that he already seemed like he'd always been part of the gang. Pretty, curly-haired Meg. And, sitting beside Meg, the man she had never expected to see again.

"May I join you?" said Marian.

Robin watched the colour slowly drain from Guy's face. He cleared his throat.

"Like I said, Guy, we've got a lot to talk about. Perhaps this would be a good place to start."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

For a moment, Robin thought Guy was going to faint again. His mouth moved as though he wanted to speak, but no sound came out. He stared at Marian for so long that finally she spoke to reassure him that he wasn't seeing an apparition.

"Yes, Guy, it's me. I'm okay. Vaisey didn't kill me. I was very sick for a long time, but I'm okay now."

Guy stood up, and looked from Marian to Robin, and back again.

"So, for what, more than a year now, I've believed Marian to be dead!" he finally choked out. "I've blamed myself for it, and you let me! You didn't tell me! Why? Oh, God!" He put his hand over his face.

"We couldn't tell you, for Marian's own safety."

"What did you think I was going to do to her, kill her myself?" he shouted.

Robin wisely didn't answer that. "We hardly told anyone, Guy. Marian has been in hiding since we got back. We didn't want Vaisey to find out, now, did we?"

"You let me think she was dead! Do you have any idea—" He could not go on.

"I'm sorry, but we—"

"I am so sick of people lying to me!" Guy spat at Robin, with an intense vehemence.

"Well, you don't exactly make it easy for people to tell you the truth, do you?"

"And just what is that supposed to mean?"

"When you threaten people—" Robin stopped himself after Marian laid a hand on his arm. He took a deep breath and went on, in a calmer tone.

"Listen to me. Whatever happened before, I'm not lying to you now. I'm going to be very honest with you. Please, sit down, Guy. We need to talk, and we need to get some things out in the open. I've got a lot of things to tell you that are not going to be easy for you to hear."

Guy clenched and unclenched his fists, and glared at Robin. He looked so angry that for a moment Robin thought the others might have to implement the plan, made largely in jest, of restraining him. Indeed, a couple of the outlaws were half-way to their feet. Guy, seeing their intent, thought better of it, and slowly sat back down. When, after some time, he spoke again, his voice was quiet, poignant, his eyes full of a deep sadness.

"I've been lied to so much, I don't know who to believe or trust anymore."

"You're going to hear the truth from me, Guy," Robin answered him. "No more lies. You know now that Marian is alive, and she is my wife."

"That's the first hard to swallow thing you've told me," Guy replied. "Don't worry, I'm not coming after you for it, either of you. It's a little late for that now."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that. We were prepared to hold you down and sit on you if you tried!"

He smiled as he saw the looks of relief on the faces of the others. None of them relished the prospect of tackling Gisborne to the ground, weakened though he was. Guy was not ready to smile yet, however. He looked, Robin thought, like he'd had a gallon of blood drained out of him.

After a moment's tense silence, Guy said, "Can I at least say how happy I am to see Marian alive?"

Marian went over to him. He stood up, and they embraced.

"Robin's wife or not," he said to her after they parted, "I'm so relieved that you're alive, I can hardly believe it's true. I saw you fall, when Vaisey attacked you! I should have stopped him. It's my fault. Marian, I'm so sorry—"

She saw the tears welling up in his eyes. "Don't be upset with yourself, Guy! We've all done things we regret. I forgave you long ago."

Guy sighed deeply. "Just tell me one thing, Marian. I must know. Did you ever love me?"

"I'm not sure this is the time and place—" Robin began, but Guy cut him off brusquely.

"No, Robin, I think this is the perfect time and place! You all want to be so honest, or so you say. So, tell me the truth, Marian. You never loved me, did you?"

"I always cared for you," she answered quietly, "but not in the way you wanted."

"It's always been Robin for you, hasn't it? Even when you agreed to marry me. You were with him all that time, behind my back."

"I almost went through with it," she told him, "because I thought it was the only way to protect my father, and myself, from the Sheriff."

He laughed, a short, bitter laugh.

"Guy, if I had married you, I would have been living a lie! Would you really have wanted to marry me under those circumstances?"

"So, all the time you were pretending to care about me, you were really mocking at me the whole while?"

"No, Guy, I never did that. I cared about you! I wanted you to get away from the Sheriff. I saw where your association with him was leading you. It upset me, and it scared me. I knew you were a better man than that. I wanted you to change. I kept hoping you would, but when you went with him to the Holy Land to kill the king, I lost hope."

"So you decided right then and there to throw it in my face that you loved Robin!"

Robin felt his own anger rising. "Guy, don't blame Marian. Come on, this is accomplishing nothing."

Marian shook her head at him. "It's okay, Robin. You said yourself that this was going to hurt. We're all being honest here. These things need to be said."

She turned back to Guy. "I never meant to hurt you," she told him. "But, yes, there were many times that I lied to you, to protect myself and my father, and to protect Robin. I did what I thought I had to do for them, and out of loyalty to the king."

Guy stared intensely at her and Robin, but then his gaze dropped, and he looked down at the ground.

"I can't fault you for that, Marian. It was my doing. I'm sure I forced you to lie to me."

They were all silent for a moment.

Robin, after an awkward pause, said, "We need to talk some things over. I have to tell you some other things that are going to shock you."

"I doubt you could shock me any more than you already have," Guy replied, as he sat down and looked at Marian.

"This might. Two weeks ago, before we went to get Archer out of prison in York, my father died."

"What? How can that be? Your father died the same day as my parents."

"That's what I thought, too. He didn't. He survived the fire. He was away for nearly twenty years. Just a little more than two weeks ago he found me. He was very ill, and he died a short time later. But before he did, he told me things, about us, Guy, that I never knew."

Robin paused. He had Guy's full attention, and that of the others who hadn't heard the story.

"You said this man, Archer, is my brother, and yours? Is that true?"

"Yes. That's one of the things I need to tell you. But let me start at the beginning. My father, Malcolm, and your mother Ghislaine, it turns out, were together, you know, before your father came back, when your mother thought he was dead."

"You think you're telling me something I didn't already know?"

"You knew?"

"I found out. I saw them together, and heard them talking. They never saw me, but I knew."

"I thought the only woman my father ever loved was my mother."

"That's because your precious father hid the truth from you! He shielded you from reality like he always did. You only saw and heard what he wanted you to. And you were never made face the consequences of your actions like I was!" His voice was hard with years of suppressed resentment.

"You're right. Okay, so maybe he did shield me. But I need to tell you something. On the night of the celebration in Locksley, you remember what happened."

"All too well. My mother had that damned firewheel set up, and she wanted us to light it, when it was time. But, no, you had to show off!"

Robin explained to the others about the firewheel Lady Gisborne had brought back with her from France, to set up as part of the celebration for the village, in honour of those who had returned from the Crusades, and in memory of those, including her own husband, Sir Rodger of Gisborne, who had not. When it was in place, Robin and Guy were to light it with flaming arrows.

"You called me a terrible shot," said Guy, "and insisted on lighting it yourself. I tried to stop you. The wheel wasn't secured. But you took my arrow out of my hand and shot anyway."

"It lit up, flames everywhere, and the men holding it had to let it drop. It fell on the village priest," Robin continued. "He was badly hurt, broke his ribs. Ghislaine saved his life. She knew what to do."

"I take it that's not the whole story," said Allan.

"No," Robin continued. "After the priest was injured, Bailiff Longthorne wanted to know who was responsible. He knew it was either me or Guy. He pulled the arrow out of the firewheel, and saw that it was Guy's."

"So Guy was blamed," said John.

"Yes. The bailiff told everyone that if the priest died, Guy would be charged with murder, and hanged. That's where I made my big mistake."

"What do you mean?" asked Much.

Robin looked at Guy as he answered. "I didn't say anything. I was scared, and I let Guy take the blame unjustly."

Guy's face wore a bitter smile. "You did," he said. "I tried to stop you from showing off and doing something stupid, and what happened? I was nearly hung for my trouble."

"It was a mistake, and one I regret very much," Robin told him. "I was sorry for what happened that day."

"And it's taken you twenty years to tell me this?"

"Yes. I'm sorry."

Guy looked thoughtful. When he spoke again, his voice had lost its sarcastic edge.

"They locked me up in the bailiff's house for two days, while they waited to see if the priest was going to survive or not. I think Longthorne was disappointed that the man lived."

"Turns out there was a reason," Robin went on. "The bailiff had a distant claim to the Gisborne estate. He was after it for himself." He paused to explain the situation to the others.

"Sir Rodger of Gisborne was given part of the Locksley village and lands as a reward for his service in the Crusades. When he did not return with his men, he was presumed dead. The estate, and the title, rightfully should have passed to Guy. Longthorne apparently spied on my father and Ghislaine, and learned of their plans to marry. Without her husband, Ghislaine was vulnerable. She was viewed with suspicion because she was French. Longthorne knew this. When Guy and I had our little accident, he saw his chance to take the estate, by getting rid of Guy on charges of murder. He knew Guy's mother would be helpless to stop it."

"Guy," Tuck asked him, "Robin said that the villagers in Locksley didn't accept your mother because she was French. And you encountered the same prejudice in France because of your English father?"

"My mother came from a wealthy family of noblemen," Guy explained. "After her parents died, her relatives wanted her to join the convent where her sisters were, and become a nun. Rodger, my father, was injured in a battle, and taken to the convent to recover, along with a number of other men. He and Ghislaine met there and fell in love, but her family was very angry about it. They didn't want her to marry an English man, especially one who was a commoner. My father was a soldier, and his family were peasants. They married against the wishes of her family. They came back to Locksley, and he was eventually given part of the Locksley estate, but my mother's family never forgave her just the same."

He continued his story. "My father came home, and put a stop to the bailiff's plans. He had been captured and held in the Holy Land. He escaped, and made his way home. I hadn't seen him in almost four years. But, he came home a leper."

"A leper? Oh, Guy, I'm sorry!" This from Meg.

"All he wanted was to see his family again before he died. But he found out about my mother and Malcolm. I don't know how."

"I don't either. But I'm getting to another part of this story that's going to be hard for you to hear. It was my father who convinced your mother to have your father cast out of the village when his leprosy was discovered by Longthorne. He told her that if Rodger was declared dead and banished from the villlage because he was a leper, she could declare herself a widow, and they would be free to marry. There was a reason they were in a hurry to marry. Your mother was with child, and the father was not your father."

"Malcolm."

"Yes."

Guy shook his head. "But they didn't marry, did they? I followed her one day. She went to the leper's camp near Kirklees Abbey, to see my father. When I confronted her, she said that she still loved him and wanted to care for him. But then she told me about her plans to marry Malcolm. She insisted that I not tell you, Robin, about their plans."

"I knew nothing about it until my father told me before he died."

"I was so angry. Here she was, telling me I had to forget about my father, not letting me see him, and yet she was secretly caring for him. I went to the camp later, to talk to my father. I was still angry, at both of them. I told my father that if he really cared about us he would have fought harder to keep the family together. I wanted us all to go back to France, to be a family again. I hated Malcolm. I blamed him for getting my father banished. I saw my mother the next day, coming home from tending to my father. She tried to explain to me why everything was going to be okay. Whether she was trying to convince me or herself, I don't know. All I remember is that she suddenly cried out in pain, and screamed at me to get help. I ran for the village. Never ran so fast."

"She was in labour, Guy."

Guy stared at Robin for a long moment before nodding his understanding.

"I see that now. She was brought back to the house, and I did not see her again for three days. Isabella and I were taken to a neighbour's house by Malcolm. I thought she was ill. I didn't know."

"My father told me the baby came early, but it was strong. It was a boy. He had a birthmark on his chest, shaped like an arrowhead. That's why your mother named him Archer."

Guy looked over at Archer. "Show me."

Archer lifted his tunic. There, on the right side of his chest, was the small brown birthmark that had given him his name.

Guy stood up slowly, and went to Archer. "You are my brother!"

"It would seem so," said Archer. "We share the same mother, Guy."

Both men's eyes filled with tears as they embraced.

"I have a brother!" said Guy, with a smile of joy that transformed his face. He held Archer by the arms and looked at him closely. Suddenly he frowned.

"You don't look anything like me. You look like Robin."

The others laughed, and the tension they were all feeling eased considerably.

"I'm sure we'll find we're alike in many other ways, big brother!" said Archer cheerfully.

Guy shook his head. "Let's hope not, for your sake."


	22. Chapter 22 The Truth Makes Free

THE TRUTH MAKES FREE

It was close to noon. Much offered to prepare a meal. Marian and Meg helped him, and they all sat down together to eat. Much kindly gave Guy an extra portion, which he did not refuse. Robin watched Archer and Guy make their first tentative steps toward a relationship.

_I have a family,_ he thought,_ right here. My wife, my friends. Who does Guy have? No one. This little brother of ours is going to be very important to him, I can see that already._

_The most painful parts of our family history to relate are yet ahead, however. I dread the reaction I'm likely to get. So far, so good. He's had a few angry flare-ups, but his temper hasn't exploded sky-high yet. Looks like his stay in prison did him some good. It humbled him. But I think I need another tall tankard of Matilda's excellent honey mead to fortify me before I tell Guy any more. Not a bad idea if I pour another one, or two, for him as well. Wouldn't mind if both of us could get rip-roaring drunk before we say anything further to each other, but I guess that will have to wait until later._

Robin was glad of the extra mead, just the same, as they finished their meal and gathered near the fire to hear more of the story.

"My father told me that he and Ghislaine decided to have Archer brought to an orphanage," Robin continued. "They would marry, and later go away on a trip, and bring him back as their adopted son. That was the plan, anyway. They had a servant take the baby to the orphanage before you and I, and Isabella, knew anything about him."

"But, my father came back to Locksley, after he had been banished, to find my mother," said Guy. "Someone saw him, and told the bailiff. Malcolm heard of it, and went after him. I was in the house with Isabella. My parents were upstairs. Malcolm came in, intent on either chasing off or killing my father. I tried to stop him, with a wall torch in my hand, but he pushed me backward. The window curtains caught fire. Malcolm ordered me and my sister out of the house, and went upstairs. What happened after that, I do not know. But the house burned down. They found the bodies inside."

"Your parent's bodies. My father got out, though he was burned."

"I should have tried to save them. I should have braved the flames—"

"It wouldn't have mattered, Guy. It would have been too late. Your mother was already dead."

"What do you mean?"

Robin looked intently at him.

"I have to tell you something else that will be hard for you to hear, but I want this all in the open. Your father died in the fire, but not your mother. My father and yours fought each other. Ghislaine tried to stop them. My father shoved her out of the way, and she fell. It was an accident, but, it killed her. Your father refused to leave her. He told Malcolm that his children would be better off without him, and he stayed with your dead mother as the house burned. He died in the fire. My father escaped. He disappeared from Nottingham for many years. He found me just three weeks ago. Before he died, he told me the truth."

Guy stood up and stared at Robin in disbelief.

"I thought it was my fault," he said shakily. "Longthorne blamed me. He said I killed them. Most of the villagers blamed me, too. They drove me out of the village because of it. I lost everything! My family, my home, my title, everything!"

"I know. It was an injustice. It wasn't your fault, you did nothing wrong."

"All this time, for twenty years, I thought I killed them, that they died because of the fire I set, but it wasn't my fault! It was your father?"

He stepped in front of Robin with clenched fists. His eyes were black with fury.

"That guilt was with me every day!" he shouted full in Robin's face. "Every day!"

The anguished, almost unbearable pain and rage in his voice and in his eyes was so intense that Robin felt it in his own heart. He put a hand out instinctively to comfort him, but Guy flinched back, and flung his arm out, striking Robin in the chest.

"Get away from me!"

He slumped down on the bench, face buried in his hands. No one spoke. After a moment, Meg went to him, and laid her gentle hands on his shoulders. Guy took one of her hands in his. Robin tried again. This time Guy didn't pull away as Robin knelt down beside him.

"Guy, I'm sorry. But I had to tell you the truth. My father wanted you to know. He asked me to tell you—"

Guy looked up, his face wet with angry tears. "Your father can go to hell!" he said savagely.

_'Guy has suffered more than you know', my father said to me,_ thought Robin, _and now I see what he meant. All these years I've thought only of my own pain, and given no thought to his. I've only ever hated Guy and despised him for what he was and what he did. I never once tried to understand him. _

He waited until the man was calm again before he spoke.

"I know you must hate my father right now, and I can't say I blame you. I wasn't very happy with him myself when I found out he left me alone in the world. I'm still trying to understand why. I looked up to my father. He was my whole world after my mother died. He was my hero. I idolized him. But, I found out that he was only human, after all. He made a terrible mistake, and he was sorry for it."

Guy looked at Robin for a long time before he answered.

"Don't expect me to ever forgive him. He seduced my mother, and he killed her. He killed my father, too."

"I'm not asking you to," Robin said. "But you need to know the truth of things, Guy. Before he died, he asked something of me. He asked me to rescue Archer, for his and Ghislaine's sake, which I did. But, he also asked me to rescue you. He said we needed to stop the hate before we destroyed each other, like our fathers did. He asked me to save you, and forgive you, in the hopes that you would forgive me as well, and we could work together instead of trying to kill each other."

"Work together? With you?"

"I know. But we're almost family, you and me, and Archer. Maybe there's a reason we haven't killed each other, as many times as we've tried."

"Please, Guy," Marian said to him, as she went to stand beside her husband, "you need to listen to Robin now. He saved your life for a reason. He wants to help! Listen to him."

Guy looked up at Marian as she spoke to him, and then back at Robin. The eyes that met his held the same expression that Robin had seen in them that day when they had spoken together in the Great Hall. But his pride, his jealousy, and his grudge against Robin, nursed for twenty years, still stood in the way.

"You think you're so righteous, don't you, Hood? Always the big hero. Everybody loves you, don't they? I'm the one everyone fears and despises. You think that doesn't hurt? You think I don't hate you for it? I've always hated you for it. You stood there that day and watched as Isabella and I were driven out of Locksley, and you did nothing. You got to stay and be the champion of Locksley, while I had everything taken from me!"

The accusation stung Robin, though he knew full well that Guy spoke the truth. He wanted to fling Guy's angry words back in his face, but the pain in the man's eyes stopped him. Behind the fierce scowl there was a desperate plea, and when Robin saw it, there was no more question of whether or not he would answer that unspoken appeal for help.

"You're right, Guy. It was wrong of me, and I take responsibility for it," he replied quietly. "But, you know what your problem is? You've been putting your faith in the wrong people. You wanted to be the hero? Okay. There's plenty of room in this world for more heroes. Then why didn't you stand up for justice? Why did you take your anger out on innocent people? Why did you choose to work for tyrants? Like Vaisey. I could have told you the outcome of that! You were so loyal to him all those years, but was he loyal to you? Let's face it, he used you to get what he wanted, and so did Prince John. And you let them. Is that what you wanted, to give your loyalty to people like that? Do you really think any of them gave a damn about you?"

"Don't, Robin!" Guy warned.

"Why not?" Robin responded. "Sometimes the truth hurts, doesn't it?"

Robin saw Guy's eyes darken and his nostrils flare. He knew he was pushing the limits of the man's self-restraint, but it had to be said.

"And that's what you're going to get from me, the truth. I'm being just as honest with you as you are being with me. I'm telling you the way it is, and you know I'm right, like it or not."

Guy was silent. He stared at the ground between his boots, his face flushed and his mouth set in a tight line. Robin waited for him to speak.

It seemed an eternity to Robin and the others, but slowly his gaze lifted, and swept across the outlaws.

"All of you, you've kept true to yourselves and each other. You never sold out just to gain some advantage. You may not believe me, but, I envy you that."

He glanced briefly at Allan. "Well, maybe you did for a little while, Allan, but I drove you to it."

"You had me tortured!" Allan exclaimed, but the smile on his face as he said it gave away his fondness for the man.

"I'm sorry, Allan. I'm sorry for a lot of the things I've done, actually. There's so many things I wish I could do differently. But what can I do about it now?"

He shook his head, and then added, "I wish I'd never met Vaisey, or ever agreed to work for him."

The gang exchanged astonished glances. This was certainly not what they had ever expected to hear from Gisborne.

Robin watched him thoughtfully. _He's a complicated man,_ he mused,_ far more than I realized. For years I've seen him only as Vaisey's accomplice, a traitor to his king, a heartless killer. But Marian was right, and so was my father, and Meg. There is another side to him. I've made my point with him, and he's taken it, with less fuss than I thought he'd kick up. Perhaps he's been humbled enough that he might be willing now to work with us._

"Join up with us, Guy, that's what I'm asking," said Robin, in a softer tone.

"Join you?"

"Yes. Don't look at me like I'm nuts! I'm serious. It's not so crazy an idea, is it? No more crazy than the fact that you're an outlaw now, just the same as us."

"It wasn't exactly in my plans, to be an outlaw."

Robin laughed. "It wasn't in my plans, either! I'd like nothing more than to be in Locksley right now, raising a family with Marian and looking after my village. But, we both ended up as outlaws for the same reason—we wouldn't put up with injustices anymore. Are we really so different now that we can't work together? Come over to our side. You've been fighting too long on the wrong side, for the wrong people."

"You want me to join your gang?"

"Not much fun being an outlaw all on your own, is it? Join up with us, and at the very least you'll get one good meal every day."

Guy couldn't help but smile at Robin's playful banter. It was getting hard to stay angry with him.

"And if I say no, then what? Then you hang me?"

"You've really got a death wish, don't you! No, we're not going to hang you. If you don't want to join us, then you're free to go. You're not my prisoner, and I'm not turning you over to anyone. I'll even help you get out of Nottinghamshire, if that's what you want. But I'm rather hoping you'll decide to stay and join our cause. We could use you with us, if you're willing."

"You really want me to join you?"

"That's my offer, Guy. You take all the time you need to think about it."

Guy stood up, and looked at all of them. Then, wordlessly, he turned, walked away from the fire and out of the camp, and into the forest. They watched him go until he was out of sight.

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"Well, I guess that answers that," said John. "The answer is no."

"He'll probably run back to Prince John now. We'll have to move the camp somewhere else," said Will.

Robin shook his head. "He's not going back to Prince John," he said quietly.

"Please, we've got to stop him! Robin, he can't leave!" Meg began to cry.

Marian looked anxiously at her husband. "Should one of us follow him? Try to talk to him?"

"No, leave him be," said Robin. "My guess is he won't go very far. He left his sword behind, so I doubt he's gone for good. He's feeling a bit sulky right now. I humbled him pretty badly. If I know Gisborne, he's fighting a battle with his pride. He needs to be alone to think it over, that's all. He'll be back, you'll see."

The outlaws busied themselves with their evening chores around the camp, but their minds were on Gisborne. Would he come back, or was he gone? Most of them, to at least some extent, hoped he would return, but others were only too happy to see him leave. Meg was inconsolable, and was only prevented from dashing into the woods after him by her fear of getting lost in the forest at nighttime.

After a couple of nerve-wracking hours, Archer approached Robin privately.

"Should I go look for him? It's getting dark."

Robin grimaced. "All right. But don't walk too deep into the woods, Archer. You don't know your way around Sherwood yet. We don't want to have to send a search party for you, too."

"I'll find him, Robin. And if he says he doesn't want to come back, maybe I can change his mind."

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Archer soon found his brother. Guy had not wandered far, only a few hundred yards, from the outlaw camp, and was seated on a fallen trunk. He turned around when he heard Archer.

"Robin send you?"

"I offered to find you."

"Checking up on me? What does he think, I'm going to run back to Isabella?"

Archer laughed lightly, and sat down beside Guy. "No. Actually, Robin trusts you. He said you just needed some time alone to think it over, and you'd be back."

"Did he?"

"It's not Robin. Some of the others, well, they're not quite sure about you yet."

"And what about you?"

Archer shrugged. "Don't know you," he said frankly.

Guy smiled. "I'm not running back to Isabella, or Prince John, or anyone else. Robin's right. I needed some time to think. It's—" He hesitated. "It's been a lot to take in, all at once."

"I understand."

"Do you?"

"Yes, my brother, I do. Ten days ago, Guy, I didn't know I had a family. I was all alone in the world for all I knew. Then I find out I've got two half-brothers and a sister. My sister is a complete lunatic, and my brothers hate each other. My father has just died, after being in hiding for twenty years, and my mother, our mother, died, accidently killed by my father. I didn't even know her name."

"I wish you had known her," said Guy. "She was a wonderful mother, a wonderful woman. She was beautiful, and kind. She loved my father. That's why I found it so hard to accept that she was with Malcolm. But now, I think I understand. She thought my father was dead. She was lonely. She needed someone."

"I think we both understand that, don't you? I've been looking after myself since I was twelve. I hated the orphanage. I ran away as soon as I could, and I've been on my own since."

"I've been pretty much on my own, too. Except for Sheriff Vaisey. What I wouldn't give now never to have met the man. Sometimes I think of our mother, and my father. They would be so disappointed and ashamed to see how I turned out."

Archer put his arm around his older brother's shoulder in an impulsive gesture of affection.

"Hey, you don't see me dressed in a monk's robes, do you? I haven't been any kind of a saint, believe me. I'm hardly going to judge you. And there's always a chance to change your course, isn't there?"

Guy turned to him with a smile, his heart warmed by his brother's fond embrace. The world he knew was a harsh and unforgiving place. Very little of either love or caring had come his way for many years. He soaked it up like water falling on desert sands.

"I'm not dead and consigned to hell yet, so maybe you're right, there's a chance for me. Although I still can't believe Robin wants me to join up with him. We've been enemies for years. If you knew how many times we've tried to kill each other, and nearly succeeded!"

"Wild times in Nottingham, I've no doubt," replied Archer with a boyish grin. "I should be standing at your graves right now. You'll both have to tell me all about it some time. But for now, how about it? You and me, what if we join up with this scruffy bunch of outlaws? Fight injustice, feed the poor, plague our less-than-charming sister. Maybe it'll be fun!"

Guy laughed. "You not only look like Robin, you sound like him, too."

"Well, he is my brother as much as you are. Guy, I just found my family. I don't want to lose them now. Robin, or you. And besides, there's a very special girl back at the camp, a girl who risked everything, and almost died for you, and she's sitting there right now crying her eyes out because she thinks you've left her without a backward glance. Do you really want to be the one to break her heart? I wouldn't."

Guy looked down. "Meg. No, I don't want to break her heart, Archer. And I don't need you stepping in to comfort her, either."

Archer laughed mischievously, and then added, "You know, just my personal observation, for what it's worth, but I think Meg is an awful lot like Marian."

"I won't pretend not to understand your meaning," Guy replied. "Robin filled you in on the story, did he?"

"About you and Marian? Oh, yeah."

"Well, she's lost to me now, and that is that. I'll have to accept it. Just the same, I can't do anything about Meg, can I? Not the ways things are. And she doesn't know me any more than you do, really. You might decide you don't like me, either of you."

"Look at it this way. I'm not prejudiced against you already. And I think I've probably heard everything there is to hear about your exploits, so I'm well past being shocked. My philosophy on life is to take it as it comes. Can't do anything about the past, and we don't know what the future will bring us. So, I just take each day for what it is. And I'll take you as you are, if you'll do the same for me."

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The outlaws looked up as Guy and Archer reentered the camp. Guy's face was solemn, but Archer was smiling. Robin stood up to meet them.

"Isn't there an old saying?" Guy told them. "If you can't defeat your enemy, then join up with him. Well, I can't defeat you, and I'm sick of trying."

He looked at all of them in turn, and then back at Robin. "I'm in, if you're sure you want me." He held his hand out to Robin.

Robin's response was a wide smile of real delight. He stepped forward and took Guy's hand in a firm grasp.

"There's another saying, Guy. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. I will speak for myself at least—I'd much rather have you on my side than against me."

Guy smiled back at him, without any sarcasm in the expression. "Almost family after all, aren't we, Robin?"

He looked around at the cluttered little camp, and the circle of faces watching him. Some of those faces were friendly, others decidedly not. He sighed. Rome wasn't built in a day, and his reputation wasn't going to be lived down that quickly, either. But, for now, he had nowhere else to go. For now, this rough camp in Sherwood Forest was home, and the outlaws he had fought against for so many years were his new companions.

"So, where do you want me to sleep, then?"


	23. Chapter 23 He's One of Us Now

"HE'S ONE OF US NOW"

Marian and Meg remained at the camp with the others that evening, as it was too dark to return safely to the cottage without Robin or one of the other men. They ate supper, told stories, and fed the campfire, until they were too tired to stay awake any longer. Archer sat with his brothers for a while after everyone else went to bed. But he saw that they needed to hash things out by themselves, so he, too, said goodnight, and settled down in his cot. Robin and Guy stayed by the fire, and talked long into the night.

"Gisborne's joining up with us, lads," Robin told them all the next morning. "He's one of us now."

At first, the gang felt as though a ferocious, man-eating tiger were wandering uncaged, and most certainly untamed, through their camp. His presence amongst the outlaws kept all of them, even Robin, on edge for the first few days. As time went on, however, most of them began to relax a bit, as their newest member showed himself to be quiet and cooperative.

Robin thought it best that Guy stick close to the camp, and Guy agreed. He needed time to heal from his injuries and put some flesh back on his bones, and until they knew what Isabella was up to, it wasn't safe for him to stray too far from the outlaw's well-protected hideout. The rest of the gang as well kept their activities confined to the villages for the next several weeks, to allow time for the uproar in Nottingham to calm down.

Robin had other reasons for wanting the gang to stay close to home. He sensed that they all needed time to adjust to their new relationships with each other. Gisborne had been their enemy for years under Vaisey, and most of them, in one way or another, had felt the heavy hand of his brutality on them and their loved ones. It was not reasonable to expect that such long-standing and justifiable hostility against Vaisey's former lieutenant was going to end overnight.

Will, in particular, did not like Guy, and avoided him as much as possible, although his wife Djaq was not so unfriendly. She had gotten her revenge on Guy months before with the double dose of nausea-inducing powder, and was quite satisfied now to let bygones be bygones, as long as Guy proved trustworthy.

Much, like Djaq and Will, was suspicious of Guy's motives, and also fearful for everyone's safety. He softened toward him somewhat, however, when the man repeatedly thanked him for the meals and praised his cooking, something the others often took for granted.

"I suppose anything tastes good after a month of prison slop," he told Robin. "And he thanks me quite nicely for every meal. I wouldn't have thought he could be so polite. But he makes me so uneasy. Yesterday I was in my kitchen, and I turned around, and there he was, standing over me with three big knives in his hands!"

Robin laughed. "Much, he was only returning them to you. I asked him to help Will and John sharpen all our knives and weapons."

"I know, but he scared me half to death! Go ahead and laugh if you want to, but I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw him. I wish he wouldn't sneak up on me like that. It's not good for my nerves."

"I'm sure he didn't mean to, Much. Tell you what, if it'll make you feel better, I'll ask him to shout the next time he comes up behind you so he doesn't startle you."

"No, that would only—very funny, Robin! You know, we'll be lucky if we don't all wake up dead with our throats cut."

This sent Robin into another spasm of mirth.

"Well, rest assured, my friend, he won't kill you at least. He likes your cooking too well for that. Just keep it coming and you'll be safe from harm."

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Though it was impossible for Guy to accompany the others to the villages, given his reputation and the fact that a sizable reward was still out for his capture, he did join them on hunting forays in Sherwood, and made himself useful around the camp. Along with sharpening tools and weapons, he made arrows, occasionally helped out an anxious and jittery Much in his kitchen, and even assisted on washing day by hauling buckets of water from the nearby stream.

Allan was pleased to have Guy with them, and seemed to think it a huge joke that they were working together again.

"Back on the same side, Giz! Who would have thought, eh, mate? Bet you never imagined you'd be here with us, did you?"

The sarcastic yet tolerant smirk he received back didn't deter Allan at all. He quickly nicknamed him "the angel of death", and Guy looked the part, with his overwhelming, black, brooding presence. With Allan at least, Guy was on familiar ground, and the two soon picked up their lopsided friendship. Allan was eager to worship, and Guy was willing to let him.

Despite the rocky start to their relationship, Guy and Tuck were reasonably comfortable with each other. Tuck was perhaps more sympathetic than most, and, with his straightforward and no nonsense approach, was a man Guy instinctively sensed he could trust.

An odd camaraderie sprang up between Guy and Little John, to everyone's amazement. John found it difficult, and then impossible, to go on hating the man who had saved his life, especially when they sat down companionably sharing a meal together every night. Guy was drawn to John's kindness, however gruffly expressed it was. Many of their conversations wound up as arguments, courtesy of their mutually volcanic tempers, but the friendship grew despite these setbacks.

Archer, young, resilient, and open-minded, befriended his brother without reservation. The past was the past as far as he was concerned. It was perhaps easier for him to do so, as it was for Meg, because Guy had no prior history with him or with Meg. He had never tried to harm them or their family members. They had no bitter memories to contend with.

Robin had bad memories aplenty. Although willing and even eager to work with Gisborne against a common enemy, he never expected to like the man personally. Guy had tried to kill him too many times to count. So it came as a surprise to him in the weeks that followed that he started to like Guy, and he saw that Guy was beginning to like him. They were very different in character and temperament, but each man found things to admire about the other, and their bond of friendship grew.

Meg quickly acclimated to the Sherwood gang, and made herself at home in the camp and at Matilda's cottage. She staunchly refused to return to her father's house, but did, under Robin and Marian's urging, write her father a letter. In it, she informed him that she was well and safe and living with friends, and so not to worry about her, and assured him that he had her blessing to marry whoever he wanted. This letter was delivered to him by a trusted friend of the gang in Locksley.

Not being, after all, a totally heartless father, Sir Wallace was greatly relieved to find out his daughter was alive, after learning of her near execution and rescue by outlaws. Still, he wasted no more time as a widower, and rushed out that same day to ask a pretty neighbour to be his new bride.

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But one relationship proved more difficult and awkward to navigate than the others—that of Guy with Marian. The last time they had been together was in the town square in Acre. Marian had moved on from it to some degree, but for Guy, time had stood still from that horrifying day. It was still very fresh in his mind, as was his love for her. He could not just forget that he had loved her, and neither could she. The shock of seeing her alive was soon eclipsed by the torment of knowing she was happily, and irrevocably, married to Robin, and would never be his.

Sensing the danger of too much intimacy with Guy, even in the form of friendship, while in the close quarters of the outlaw camp, Marian did her best to avoid being alone with him. When they talked, it was always with someone else nearby. Robin trusted his wife, and in time he trusted Guy, too, not to do anything foolish. All the same, Robin was doubly thankful for Meg's presence and her devotion to Guy. Whether or not Guy returned her feelings Robin could not say for certain. But when Meg wasn't at the cottage, she was with him, and she proved to be a welcome distraction for him at least, as he slowly came to terms with the knowledge that the love of his life, though not dead, was in all other respects lost to him forever.

Allan and Much in their turns fell in love with Meg. Archer might have, too, but Meg, though friendly and teasing with all "the lads", saw them only as her brothers. She had loving eyes for Guy and no one else.

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The outlaws spent much of their free time, when not otherwise occupied, in practicing their fighting skills. Guy was invited to join in. Hungry for companionship and a sense of belonging, he did. While Robin and Archer helped Guy hone his skills with the bow, he taught them some advanced skills of swordsmanship. Guy cajoled Little John into giving him lessons in the use of the cudgel. At the cost of a few bruises and sore heads, he gradually gained some proficiency with John's favourite weapon.

"Look, Gisborne, this is not a club," John grumbled at Guy as they engaged in a practice session, with Archer and Robin as audience. "You're trying to knock out your opponent, not break his skull!"

"I'm not?"

"No! That's not how we do things here. We don't kill unless we have to. Here, like this."

Guy tried again.

"No, no, no!" John hollered. "Not like that! Don't be so bloody thick! How many times do I have to tell you?"

He took the cudgel from Guy and showed him again. "Here, hold it like this!" he said with a sigh of exasperation. He positioned Guy's hands on the weapon. "Try again."

Guy did so, by smacking John, rather hard, on the rump with the heavy staff.

"Ow! Gisborne!"

"Oops. Sorry."

Guy turned to Robin and Archer, who were grinning from ear to ear at the spectacle, and gave them a smirk and an audacious wink behind John's back.

Another day they all decided on a wrestling contest. The three women sat together as the men stripped off their tunics and paired up.

"Showing off again," Marian whispered to Djaq. "Trying to impress us."

Meg said nothing. She was too busy staring at Guy. Much's tasty and abundant meals had put weight back on him. By this time his injuries had healed, though a few scars remained. Those scars did nothing, however, in Meg's mind, to detract from his appearance. With his strength returned, he was more than a match for the others, and even Little John couldn't hold him down for long.

Archer had a few tricks up his sleeve, however, learned from his mysterious wanderings in foreign lands. Though not as tall or as rugged as his older brother, when they paired off and started to wrestle each other, Archer, in one quick, fluid motion, had his very surprised brother lying flat on his back and immobilized. The men cheered.

"The invincible Gisborne goes down, to make way for our new champion!" shouted Allan.

Guy brushed off his trousers and his dignity, graciously conceded defeat, and shook his brother's hand.

"Where'd you learn that?" Robin wanted to know.

Archer's face broke into a smirk of amusement, which, if he had known it, was exactly like Guy's.

"My secret," he replied. "But I'll show you how it's done. Might come in handy for you."

The rest of the afternoon was spent with Archer teaching them many of the skills he had acquired. This included a few punches, which Guy wanted to practice with Robin. Robin shook his head and laughed.

"No, thanks. I've been on the receiving end of your fist more than once, and I don't care to repeat the experience. You've got one hell of a mean right hook, could knock out a horse with it! Last time you hit me, my head buzzed for a week afterward!"

Guy smiled, rather pleased with the compliment.

"I volunteer Much to be your sparring partner."

"Robin!" squealed a very frightened Much.

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Little in the way of news reached the outlaws during those weeks. Spring became early summer. The weather cooperated, and the peasants were able to plant their crops early. They were hopeful of a good harvest to come.

"Looks like we won't have so many hungry villagers to feed this year, gang," said Robin. "Unless Isabella decides to follow in Vaisey's footsteps."

The men of Locksley told the gang that Isabella and her guards had been seen in the villages only very infrequently. Gisborne's disappearance was an intriguing mystery to all, however. Robin feigned ignorance, and fended off any questions thrown at him from ones who had heard that he and his men had somehow been mixed up in the man's escape from execution.

In Nottingham Castle, in the meantime, Isabella had her hands full. She wanted nothing more than to send out her soldiers and hunt down Guy, and Robin and his gang, but she was forced to put those wishes on hold. Bigger problems loomed, coming at her from every direction. A firestorm of bad publicity followed the interrupted execution, and she scrambled to contain the damage.

Meg, she soon learned, was not a poor and defenseless peasant girl, but the daughter of a wealthy merchant with numerous friends in and around Nottingham. Her antics at her "trial" had won Meg many admirers. Isabella's actions, in sentencing her to death, turned many against their new Sheriff, especially when the report was circulated that Lady Isabella had ordered Meg killed without a trial or even a hearing.

Even her brother Guy, she learned, had won his share of sympathizers that day, townspeople and peasants alike. This was completely unexpected. And where was he, anyway? That Robin Hood would rescue him right out from under the axe seemed to defy all sense, considering how much the two men hated each other, but there were too many eyewitnesses of the events to deny that Hood and his followers had done just that.

Why they had done it, of course, was the big and unanswerable question, and the subject of much discussion and speculation across the town. Some wondered if Gisborne had defected and joined Robin's gang, as improbable as it seemed, while a few wags in the taverns joked that the outlaws had taken Gisborne with them into Sherwood Forest to use him as target practice!

In any case, Isabella found that her initial popularity as the new Sheriff was now gone. Many were calling for her removal from office. They saw her as a female version of Vaisey. Along with her infamous actions toward young Meg, the people were angered about the events in the marketplace some weeks earlier, when several armed and threatening men had accousted the merchants of the city and taken their profits, under her orders. It had, of course, actually been the work of her now dead husband, but it added to her public relations nightmare. Thornton, it seemed, was striking back at her from his grave. And Robin's men had taken Thornton's stolen money from her when they rescued Guy and Meg, so she could not return any of it to the defrauded businessmen.

Then the rumour began to circulate that she had, in fact, murdered her husband, a wealthy landowner, hero of the Crusades, and a personal friend of the prince. Who leaked out that damaging information she was unable to discover, though she had several suspects rounded up and tortured. This action only worsened matters for her. The tortured men broadcast far and wide the terrible conditions that existed in the dungeons of Nottingham Castle, and Isabella's reputation fell even further into disrepute.

In desperation, and fearful for her position and even her life, Isabella sat down at her desk to write a lengthy letter to the prince, and beg for his help and support. While she was writing, one of her guards came in, with a raggedly-dressed peasant beside him.

"I'm very busy. This had better be important. What is it?"

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Of Isabella's troubles in Nottingham, the gang heard very little. They were enjoying much needed rest and quiet. All of them knew it would not last forever, but they had learned to take such times when they could. Guy, too, enjoyed the rest, and worked to adopt Archer's attitude of taking each day as it came. In the peaceful sylvan realm of Sherwood, swathed in the green and gold of spring, it was not hard to do.

"Do you miss it, Guy, not being Sheriff?" Robin asked him one day while they were returning from a successful hunt in the forest.

"I did get to be Sheriff, Robin. For about, let's see, fifteen or twenty minutes."

Robin laughed. "I almost forgot! You did, didn't you? Until Prince John fired you."

"Thanks to you."

"Fair enough. I'll take the blame. That really was too funny, though, Guy. I'll never forget the look on your face when he fired you. It was priceless! And I don't know when I've felt more satisfaction than I did helping you push him down the well into that awful icy water. But you let me escape, didn't you? You made it easy for me. Come on, admit it!"

"Why? So you can have something more to brag about? You're insufferable, did you know that?"

"I know. Marian reminds me all the time. But I think it's a safe bet that you probably enjoyed the shortest tenure as Sheriff of anyone in Nottingham's history."

"Undoubtedly. But, to answer your question, no. I found out pretty quickly, as soon as Prince John handed me the keys to Nottingham, actually, that power without freedom is pretty empty. I might have been Sheriff, but I was still under his control, just like I was with Vaisey."

"So you don't regret it?"

"No. Why should I? To be perfectly honest, I'm having much more fun hanging out here in Sherwood with you bunch of losers."

He turned to Robin with a grin as he said it, however, and Robin couldn't help but think how such a simple thing as a smile, a smile born of the respect and genuine friendship he now felt for Robin, could change Guy so much.

"And yes, okay, I admit it. I let you escape. I wanted to see if you were clever enough to get yourself out. You were. I should have known. Happy now?"

"As a matter of fact, I am," was Robin's reply, and the smile he gave Guy in return was that which a man gives for a beloved brother and a trusted friend.

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Robin well knew the necessity of trust and loyalty. Among his small band of followers, it was essential. Given that they were all outlaws, with a price on their heads, and had powerful enemies in Isabella and Prince John, their solidarity was crucial to their survival. The meals together, the jokes and stories, the fighting practice sessions, the shared camp, the way they viewed each other as family, cemented their bonds. Each member knew that he or she might have to trust the others at any moment to watch their backs, and even their lives.

So Robin was pleased to see his gang finally accept Gisborne into their midst. Some still had reservations, but most no longer questioned his motives. He found his place amongst them and was welcomed into their company.

Guy had never owned less, in money or property. He had never occupied a lower rung in society, and his future had never been so uncertain. But for all that, he was happier than he had ever been since his childhood, before the deaths of his parents. In the depths of Sherwood Forest, he came to learn what truly mattered in life—friends who would not lie to him or betray him, family who accepted him as he was, and a freedom he had never experienced under the brutal tyranny of Vaisey or Prince John.

Those quiet, peaceful weeks in Sherwood were to prove invaluable, for Guy's loyalty and trust were soon to be tested, as was the trust of all in him.


	24. Chapter 24 Villainy Times Three

VILLAINY TIMES THREE

In his castle in the heart of London, Prince John sat across from a middle-aged, bearded man with grizzled grey hair and a stern and forbidding countenance. He handed the man the letter he had just received that morning from the Lady Sheriff Isabella.

"It would seem that your boy Gisborne has joined up with Robin Hood."

"What? Impossible!" replied the man. His heavy-lidded dark eyes stared back at the prince. He frowned and shook his head. "That would never happen, sire. They hate each other too much."

"That's what Isabella thought, but it's all there in her letter. Robin Hood and his men rescued Gisborne and some silly girl who tried to break him out of prison. Right out from under the executioner's axe, in full view of the whole town, or so she tells me. And now, to all appearances, he has joined their gang. A woodcutter from Nettlestone saw Gisborne in Sherwood, with Hood and two others from his gang. Read it for yourself."

Prince John watched as the man read the letter hastily.

"That *#%& bastard! That &%*# traitor!" The man went off into a stream of expletives, until the prince's laughter stopped him.

"My dear fellow, he didn't kill you, did he?"

"He tried!"

"Yes, but the important thing is, he didn't succeed. What would you say if I were to send you back to Nottingham?"

"For what purpose, sire? You installed Isabella as Sheriff."

"Ah, yes, the lovely Isabella. She's a widow now, you know. I didn't realize her husband was Lord Thornton. Rumour has it that she killed him herself. I hope it's not true. He was a friend of mine. Still, if he survived three campaigns in the Holy Land, only to come home and be done in by a woman….Pretty ironic, isn't it? Yes. To be quite frank, I think her talents are wasted out there. She could serve me far better here in London, if you get my meaning."

The two men laughed coarsely.

"So, you want me to overthrow her by force, sire?"

"Hmm, no. I think she can be persuaded to give up her position and come back here to London with me. I'll send along a letter to that effect. But I want you back as Sheriff of Nottingham. And, I have another assignment for you."

"Involving Robin Hood, sire?"

"Yes. After you get settled, hunt him down, and bring his head back to me on a pike."

"Very good! My pleasure, sire. Oh yes, very good. And his men?"

"Hang them, and everyone who supported them, at every thoroughfare and crossroads, and leave them there until they rot, as a warning to all who would dare defy my authority."

The man sneered maliciously. "And what about Gisborne, sire?"

Prince John leaned in close to him. "Bring him back to me, Sheriff Vaisey, in a sack, in very small pieces."

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One afternoon, the gang, headed back to their camp from the vicinity of Locksley, intercepted a man on horseback. They might have let the man continue unmolested, if he hadn't been riding at such a furious gallop straight toward Nottingham, wearing a uniform that looked suspiciously like one worn by a courier from Prince John. Such an interesting traveler in Sherwood had to be investigated.

In a moment the hapless rider was on the ground, thrown from his mount after Robin and Archer fired several arrows in the horse's path, which caused the animal to shy and rear up. He stayed on the ground, with the point of Guy's sword pressed warningly against his throat, while Robin rifled through his bag. In it was a folded letter, sealed with Prince John's royal seal, and addressed to the Lady Sheriff Isabella. The bag also contained a small number of gold coins.

"Oy, what we got here, lads?" said Robin, affecting the voice of an uneducated peasant turned thief. "A love letter?"

He tossed the letter down and ground it into the dirt beneath his heel. Then he counted out the gold in his hand.

"This all the loot you got on ya? Or do we take y'apart to find more?"

The outlaws all guffawed loudly. Prince John's courier wasn't so amused. He had no idea who the men were, other than common thieves. He scowled sullenly at them, but wisely stayed still, and hoped they would be satisfied with the few coins he carried.

"That's all I've got," he answered Robin. "Let me go in peace, please. I have no quarrel with you."

Two of the thieves searched his pockets for more money, before giving up. One gave him a kick.

"We'll let y'off easy this time," said their leader. "You come through our woods again, you better have more'n this, or we'll hang ya!"

They pulled him to his feet. "Get 'im on t'horse, and send 'im back to 'is Mum!"

The outlaws gagged him and tied him face-down to the saddle. John slapped the horse's rump, and it and its rider galloped off, back down the North Road toward London.

"Good one, Robin!" the men laughed.

Robin bowed playfully to them. "It's all in practice, my friends. Now, let's see what's in this."

He bent down, picked up the dust-covered and torn letter, broke open the seal, and read it. His smile faded away, and he turned deathly pale.

"What is it, Robin?" Much asked.

Robin read the letter aloud to his men. After he finished, there was a silence. All eyes turned toward Guy, whose face was now as white as Robin's.

"No!" he stammered. "That's impossible!" He looked from one to another. "I stuck a knife in him. I saw him die!"

"Well, that ghost is with Prince John in London right now, and he'll soon be headed this way," replied Robin in a tight voice.

Guy searched their faces. He saw mistrust, suspicion, and on some, deep anger.

"I knew we shouldn't have trusted you!" blurted out Much.

"You lied to us!" cried Will.

Robin cut them off. "That's enough, both of you! Guy, do you have a plausible explanation? I'm willing to listen."

"Robin, all of you, please! I know what you're thinking right now. I'm telling you the truth. I stabbed Vaisey. I thought he was dead, truly. I'm not lying to you. I don't know how this happened. I can't explain it. But I'm not lying—"

His voice began to choke up as he looked desperately at Robin.

"We'll go back to the camp, and sort this out," said Robin with a heavy sigh. The men followed behind him. A miserable Guy walked in their midst, and felt on all sides their collective wrath.

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Robin took Guy off alone to talk after they returned to the camp.

"Robin, I swear to you, on my life, I'm telling you the truth! I was sure I killed Vaisey. Obviously I didn't succeed."

Robin looked sternly at him. "All right, Guy, I'm listening. Tell me. Explain it to me. What happened after you stabbed him?"

"I left him there, on top of the battlement, near the tower. I didn't want anyone to connect me with the death. I had to get out of there, and fast, so I left him for the guards to find."

"Did you check, to make sure he was dead?"

Guy slowly shook his head. "There's my mistake. I didn't. He was lying still, with a knife in his chest. I-I assumed he was dead. What did I do? He must not have been dead after all!"

"We heard that the body disappeared, and no one knows for sure where it was taken. Is that true?"

"Yes. The night sentries found him. That's all I was told. The next day I was informed that he had been buried outside Nottingham, in an unmarked grave. I couldn't follow up on anything, or ask too many questions, because I would come under suspicion. I told you before that Prince John pit us against each other. He promised me the position of Sheriff if I killed Vaisey, but I had to do it secretly. I had my own personal reasons for wanting to kill Vaisey, as you know. But still, the prince was supposed to be the only one who knew I had done it."

"Were there men among the castle guard who were loyal to Vaisey? Men who might have brought him somewhere if they saw he was still alive? If he wasn't dead, but only wounded, perhaps in a faint or unconscious?" began Robin.

"I'm sure there were a few," said Guy, grasping for an explanation that might account for Vaisey's survival.

"It might help explain why the body disappeared," said Robin.

He looked long and hard at Guy. In his weeks of close association with the man, he had learned many things about him. Whereas in the past he had seen only the man's bad traits, now he more clearly saw the good. Guy was honest, and loyal to a fault. As unimaginable as a real friendship with Guy had once seemed, Robin knew they were now friends, and he trusted him. He saw no lie in his eyes, no attempt at deceit or trickery. The man was as genuinely shocked as the rest of them to learn of Vaisey's survival, and his dangerous alliance with the prince. He could not, would not, believe that Guy had been playing games with them all that time. It made no sense.

"Guy, I believe you," Robin told him.

"You do? You mean that?"

"Yes. I don't think you're lying to me."

"I'm not, Robin. I wouldn't, not now. I have nowhere else to go. Prince John wants me dead, Isabella wants me dead. King Richard, too. And I tried to kill Vaisey, so I'm sure I'm at the top of his list now. No, I threw my lot in with you and the other outlaws, and that's where I mean to stay. But I think right now you're the only one who believes me. They don't trust me, and I can't blame them. It does look bad. I claim to kill Vaisey, and he shows up alive—"

"I don't think everyone believes you're lying. Some of them, maybe. But right now we've got a bigger problem. Vaisey's sided with the prince, who wants him back in Nottingham. And Isabella's mixed up in it, too. We need to make a plan of action, and quickly, to stop them. King Richard is back in England, according to the letter, but he's still a long way away. We can't wait for him. We need to act now. We can't let Vaisey take Nottingham back."

"I agree."

"Are you with me on this?"

"Absolutely. I'll do whatever needs to be done, whatever you want me to do. I got us into this mess, after all. How could I have been so stupid?"

"Guy, this is their doing, not yours. You acted to take out Vaisey. I didn't see anyone else stepping up to do the job, did you?"

"I didn't see it through, and now I've put us all in danger."

"Nothing new for us, is it?"

Guy gave him a faint smile. "That's true. But, what are we going to do about the rest of your gang? What can I do? Apologize? A bit useless now, isn't it?"

"I'll talk with them. Come on, let's go back. Explain to them what happened. I'll vouch for you. Then we need to come up with a plan to stop Vaisey and the prince."

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Guy stood before the other outlaws and gave his story. This time, there were less suspicious glares, and more thoughtful looks, from most of them. When he finished, he stood quietly and awaited their judgment.

"Robin, you believe he's telling the truth?"

"Yes, Much, I do. He's got no reason to lie to us now. Listen, all of you. We need to stick together if we're going to stop Vaisey. That goes for all of us. Gisborne is one of us now. He's with us, lads, and he's loyal. His fate will be no different than ours."

Archer and Allan smiled and nodded toward Guy. Little John scowled hard at him, but slowly his face softened. He wanted very badly to believe Guy, though he would never have admitted it to the others. Djaq shrugged. Will and Much looked unconvinced. Guy saw their expressions and addressed them.

"Look, I understand how you feel about me. I've been your enemy for years. You don't have much reason to trust or believe me. All I can say is that I'm telling you the truth. How Vaisey survived is anybody's guess. I wish I could explain it, but I can't. He's still alive, and we need to stop him. I'm on your side on this, and I'm willing to help, if you'll let me."

The outlaws exchanged glances. Tacitly, Guy was accepted again, with reservations, at least by most of them.

"What's the plan, Robin?" asked Archer.

"Not sure yet, but we'll have to come up with something quickly."

He paced, frowning and biting his lip. "We need to get rid of Isabella, that much is clear. And when Vaisey gets here, we have to be ready for him. We can't let him take back Nottingham."

"We, Robin? What, our little gang, against every guard in Nottingham Castle?"

"No, Much. We need some help, obviously. Problem is, who can we trust?"

"Robin," said Tuck, "perhaps the old 'divide and conquer' method? A coup d'etat."

Guy smiled. The others, not familiar with the French words, just stared.

"What does that mean?" asked Little John.

"It means, John, that we overthrow Isabella's rule from the inside."

"How? The castle's full of guards. We can't take them all on."

"If this works, we won't need to."

He turned to Guy. "You want to help us? Okay, here's your chance."

Guy looked surprised. "What can I do?"

"You know the guards, right? Most of them, anyway, by sight if not by name."

"Not very well, but—"

"You know them better than we do, that's my point. All we know of them is how to outsmart and outrun them."

"Yes, I've seen that often enough. So, how can I help?"

"We'll go into Nottingham. Round up a few guards. Question them. Find out who's loyal to the king, and who's loyal to Isabella and Prince John. That's where you can help me, Guy. Come with me. You know these men. We'll enlist some support on the inside. Find out who we can count on when the time comes."

"I still don't get it, Robin," said Allan.

"We divide Isabella's forces, Allan. Those on our side will fight for us. We may be able to gather some villagers and townspeople to help us, too. We'll take Nottingham from Isabella, and be ready for Vaisey when he gets here. The letter said when he's coming to Nottingham, so we have advance warning. Best of all, we know King Richard and his army are back in England, and where they are stationed. We may be able to get a message to him to hasten his arrival."

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Early the next day, after sending the other outlaws into the villages to recruit any men willing to join the coup against Isabella, Robin and Guy made their way to Nottingham. They got inside the castle and found a man alone in the barracks. The man was caught by surprise. It was the young guard, Ralf DeBracy. He dropped to the floor in fright when he saw Gisborne.

"Sir Guy!" he exclaimed. "And, Robin Hood?"

"You know this man?" Robin asked Guy.

"Yes." He put his hand down to the young man. "It's okay, Ralf. We're not going to hurt you."

Ralf took Guy's hand and slowly stood up. He looked in wonder from one man to the other.

"It's true, then, sir. You're with Robin Hood. We were told this, but no one could believe it!"

"We need to talk to you," said Robin. "You can help us."

"Help you? How?"

"Come sit down and we'll tell you."

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"The letter was stolen? Stolen?"

"Yes, sire," said the courier. "I was stopped, in Sherwood Forest, by a group of men. They took the letter and the money I carried, and sent me off."

"Who were they? Robin Hood and his gang?"

"Sire, I do not know. Sherwood is full of outlaws and thieves."

"What did they look like?" demanded the prince.

"A common looking bunch, sire. Dirty, scruffy, probably illiterate. They were much more interested in my money than in the letter. They threw the letter on the ground and took the money, and threatened me."

"Hmm, unlikely to be Robin's gang, then. Robin can read. He's a nobleman. Still, it's possible."

Prince John paced the floor anxiously.

"Nothing to be done now," he finally decided. "Most likely they were nothing but what you say, thieves, after gold. I'll just send along another letter with Vaisey. You're dismissed."

The courier left the prince's presence hurriedly, thankful to have escaped the man with his life.

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"Lady Isabella promised us all freedom," said Ralf. "After Vaisey's rule, we were thrilled, of course. But it didn't last long. Three friends of mine were thrown into prison. She had one of them tortured. Miller, Sir Guy, you may remember him."

"I do. Why was he tortured?"

"For speaking against her, sir, and criticizing her decisions. He survived, but he'll never be the same man again. After that, none of us dared speak up. She won't tolerate anyone questioning her, about even the smallest matters. Anyone who does is crushed immediately. We all live in fear, except for those loyal to her."

"How many would you say are loyal to Isabella, Ralf?"

"Not as many as before, sir. The whole town knows about the young lady Meg Bennett. Sheriff Isabella made herself very unpopular, the way she dealt with Meg. And many here at the castle were upset about the way you were treated," he said, looking at Guy.

"We didn't like it, sir," he continued, "and we didn't agree with it. Isabella's prison guards tortured him, Robin, very cruelly."

"Yes, I know," answered Robin.

"It may surprise you, Sir Guy," said Ralf, "but you won the respect of many at your near execution. We here still talk about how brave you were that day, asking for Meg's life and not your own. You made Isabella look very small."

Robin looked over at Guy, and was surprised to see the man blush.

"I'm glad you thought me so brave, Ralf. I wasn't feeling it at that moment, believe me."

But Ralf only gazed up admiringly at him.

"Ralf, we're taking you into our confidence," Guy told him. "Robin Hood and his men and myself want to take Nottingham from Isabella, and hold it until the king returns."

"Truly, sir?" Ralf's face lit up with a hopeful expression. "Begging pardon, sir, as she is your sister, but I'm happy to hear it. Life under Isabella has been worse than life under Sheriff Vaisey."

"She's no sister of mine anymore," muttered Guy.

"Ralf, this is where we could use your help, if you're willing," said Robin.

"Yes, sir, anything. I'd be happy to help."

"We need to find out who here is loyal to King Richard, and who is loyal to Prince John and Isabella. We have to find out who we can depend on to be on our side when we move against Isabella."

Robin outlined his plan to Ralf. He also told him that Vaisey had survived the attempt on his life, and was headed back to take over as Sheriff once again. Seeing clearly how much the young man looked up to Guy, he made no mention of his culpability, for which Guy was forever grateful.

"We would like you to organize an inside job, DeBracy," Guy added after Robin finished. "Talk with the other guards, find out who's loyal. Gather them and be ready for action. We have to move quickly."

"Me, sir? I'm no good at—"

"We trust you," said Robin. "You're the man for the job."

"Sir, I'll do my best. I think most of the guards will be on our side. But it will be dangerous. There's some really vicious scoundrels in the castle who are loyal to Isabella."

"Then you'll be extra careful, as will we all. Do what you can today, Ralf. We'll meet up with you tomorrow, at noon."

The three men made arrangements for the following day. After they parted, Robin and Guy got out of the castle and Nottingham, and headed back to the camp.

"Can we trust him?" asked Robin.

"Ralf? Yes. I know him pretty well, better than any of the others. He's a good lad. He's intelligent, and he's honest. I'd trust him with my life, Robin."

"I hope you're right, because we've just put all our lives in his hands."


	25. Chapter 25 The Gathering Storm

THE GATHERING STORM

"I hope Robin is all right," said Much. He and the other outlaws were headed for Locksley, their first stop, to recruit men for the fight against Isabella.

"Of course he is. Stop worrying, Much," replied Allan.

"How can I not worry when he's with Gisborne?"

"Aw, come on! Gisborne's with us now. He's gonna help. Robin trusts him, so should we."

"Robin trusted Isabella, too, and look what happened," said Will.

"Tuck, say something to these lads! Do you trust Gisborne?"

"I do," Tuck answered. "Will, Much, I've been one of King Richard's advisors for years, as you know. In my position, I am called upon very often to make judgments of people's characters. Not to brag, but I've become quite good at it. I've spent a lot of time with Gisborne over the past few weeks, and we've talked in depth on several occasions. I probably understand the man and what drives him as well as anyone."

"So you think he told us the truth about the Sheriff?"

"I have no reason not to. Gisborne is very different than his sister. At his core he's honest. If he likes you, you know it. If he doesn't, he's just as upfront about that. He's not a back-stabber. That's one reason he and Vaisey finally came to blows, no doubt. Guy has that quality of intense loyalty. It's both a strength and a weakness in him, because he's given his loyalty to the wrong people in the past. But he's with us now. He's loyal to us, and to Robin, and I trust him. He won't turn back."

"You'd better know what you're talking about, Tuck. We're risking a lot of lives, trusting him, and not just our own."

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The outlaws regrouped that night at the cottage, with several men from the villages. All were in astonishment to see Vaisey's former right-hand man now acting as Robin Hood's partner, and explanations and reassurances had to be given before the men could get down to the business of planning the coup. Robin was heartened to see how many men were willing to join them, but he was anxious to avoid bloodshed as much as possible.

"We take the castle," he told them, "with the help of guards on the inside. We arrest Isabella and her followers, and hold them for the king's justice. When Vaisey gets here, we capture him, too. I don't want anyone taking revenge. We need to let the king take care of them."

Robin and Guy met Ralf DeBracy again the next day as arranged. This time Ralf had several guards with him, all eager to put an end to Isabella's harsh rule. Many more of the castle guards had elected to join them in the coup, and were armed and ready. Robin and Guy smiled at each other.

"We might just be able to pull this off," said Robin. "Tonight, lads, we go into action."

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In the dead of that moonless night, Robin and his small army of peasants infiltrated Nottingham Castle. On the inside, Ralf led the guards against those loyal to Isabella and the prince. By morning, the castle was in the hands of the subjects of the king, and Isabella and the surviving men of her guards were locked up in the newly emptied dungeon.

Robin had lost four men, and several more were injured. It was a hard blow to him, but Isabella was stopped, as Guy reminded him, and many more might have died if not for Ralf's courageous actions.

"I'll make sure King Richard is informed, and DeBracy is properly honoured for his part," he told Guy. "For now, we hold the city."

The battle for control of Nottingham had been fought largely within the castle, so that the citizens of the town woke up the next morning unaware of what had taken place while they slept. By midday, the news had spread throughout the town—Robin of Locksley and Guy of Gisborne had ousted Lady Isabella from power, and were preparing to do the same when the former Sheriff, mysteriously still alive, showed up.

No one, it seemed, wanted Vaisey back in power, not even the wealthy merchants who had benefited from his corrupt rule, and Robin and his men soon had more recruits from amongst the men of Nottingham than they knew what to do with. They set up office in the Great Hall to organize the volunteers.

"Let's hope we don't have to make use of them," he said to Tuck as he looked out at the crowd. "Vaisey should be here any time now, but I imagine he'll have only a small group with him. He won't be expecting any resistance, after all."

"Unless word has somehow gotten back to him."

"The letter said he was to leave London and arrive here by the 20th day of June. That's tomorrow, Tuck. He'll be here before he ever gets word. We took the city just in time."

The rest of that day and evening were spent in celebrations throughout Nottingham. Most were joyous affairs, but the guards watching over the dungeon had their hands full at one point during the night, when a few men who had imbibed a bit too much at the taverns stormed into the castle, with the intent of taking the prisoners out to be hanged. Archer and Robin put a stop to their vigilante justice, and sent them home to sober up.

As for Robin, he wanted nothing more than to fetch Marian from the cottage and spend the night at Locksley Manor, now that he was free to do so. So many years it had been! But he knew he needed to stay in Nottingham. It was not the time to indulge his personal wishes. The battle was won against Isabella, but the war was not over, not until Vaisey was also stopped.

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The next day passed, with no sign of Vaisey.

"Must have been held up along the way," said Robin. "We'll be ready for him just the same."

The next day passed. Still no Vaisey.

"Do you think we should send out some scouts?" suggested Guy.

"I thought about it," answered Robin. "Let's give him one more day. If he doesn't come tomorrow, we'll ask for volunteers to be scouts."

But something unforeseen happened that night. Isabella escaped.

"Which man was it? Do you know, Ralf?" Robin asked a shaken DeBracy the next morning.

"Yes. And I never would have believed it of him, sir. I'm sorry. I misjudged him."

"Don't take it on yourself," said Robin. "We all, at one time or another, underestimated Isabella. She can be very cunning and persuasive. I found that out myself. She must have talked him into letting her and her men out."

"But the other guards, Turner and Fitzwilliam. They killed them, sir!"

""I'm so sorry, Ralf. We should have posted more men. Were they friends of yours?"

"Yes, sir, and loyal to the king."

Archer arrived with more bad news. "Three more dead," he told Robin. "At the east gate of Nottingham. We found one man alive, but he's died since. He lived long enough to tell us that Isabella and her followers escaped. Where do you suppose they headed, to London?"

"That would be my guess," answered Robin.

"Should we take some men and chase them down?"

"Let's find the others and talk it over."

In the end it was decided to let her go.

"She can't do much harm at this point," argued Robin. "Vaisey will be here before she ever makes it back to London, and by the time the prince tries to retaliate, King Richard will be here as well. I sent word to him right after we took Nottingham. I don't want to endanger any more of us dealing with her. We need to stay here."

What Robin, and the people in Nottingham, had no way of knowing was that Vaisey had not left London as planned. He spent several days instead flat in bed with a virulent cold. By the time he recovered, and he and his small entourage had set out for Nottingham, Isabella and her supporters were on their way back. The two groups met on the road, not half-a-day's journey from Prince John's castle, and rode back together to London to tell the prince that Nottingham was now in the hands of none other than Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne.

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Prince John was livid when he heard the news. He raged for several minutes, throwing everything within reach to the floor or against the wall, including a couple of servants who didn't get out of his way quick enough.

Isabella was frightened, but Vaisey sat back and watched the man's tantrum with a complacent smile of amusement.

"How can this be?" shouted the prince. "Hood and Gisborne, in control of Nottingham? Are these men forever going to be the plague of my existence?"

"Sire, might I suggest—"

"Vaisey, I want you to go back, but I'm through messing about, do you hear me? This time I'm sending my army with you! Yes, that's right. You are to take back Nottingham, and kill those two criminals once and for all. I don't want to see you back here until it's done!"

"Consider it as good as done, sire. It will be my pleasure. Especially Gisborne. I want him dead now more than Hood."

"And I don't mean I want to see you back with half my army destroyed, either!"

"No, sire. In fact—" Vaisey rubbed his chin. "Yes, it just might work."

"You have a plan?" The prince stopped his rant, and sat down across from Vaisey. His face was all eagerness now.

"Sire, years ago, when I became Sheriff, I had a secret tunnel built in the castle, in case I ever needed to escape undetected."

"And? All castles have secret passages, Vaisey. What's your point?"

"This one is different. It's impossible to find if you don't know where to look, and I'm the only person who knows about it and where it is. Even Gisborne doesn't know. It was built before he started working for me, and I chose not to tell him of it. The workers who built it were silenced after the project was completed."

"Ah, permanently silenced, I hope."

"As silent as the grave. Here's my plan. I'll take your army, and besiege the city. Robin Hood is no fool. He'll have scouts watching for us, no doubt, so our arrival will come as no surprise. We'll march up to the gates, and your men will do their thing—shoot lots of arrows, make lots of noise. Perhaps we can throw in a battering ram and a trebuchet or two. I've got some fun stuff I bought from my cousin, the Sheriff of York, that should make things interesting. But, sire, the siege at the gates will be only a diversion."

Prince John moved in closer. "You mean to move some men through your hidden tunnel and into the city?"

"Eventually. First, I want to take out their leaders. Myself, a couple of others, will make our way inside, find Hood and Gisborne, and lure them into a trap. Kill them, and the others will be lost. What have they got to put up against us anyway? A few guards, peasants, townspeople? Against a trained army? Without a strong leader like Hood they'll be easy prey. Once the leaders are killed, we'll move troops through the tunnel, and take the city from within and without."

"Very good, Vaisey. I like it. Very sneaky."

"Sneakiness is my specialty, sire."

"Sire," said Isabella, "I wish to accompany Sheriff Vaisey back to Nottingham. I have personal reasons for wanting to see Robin Hood and my brother brought to justice."

"Oh, no, my dear Isabella—"

"Sire, perhaps we should," cut in Vaisey. "Lady Isabella, you could help me. We'll send you in to find your brother and Hood. You'd make the perfect lure. If they were to see you in the castle, they'd follow you like sheep to the slaughter."

"This is true, sire. I could lead them both to the trap."

"It sounds dangerous, my dear."

"They don't frighten me, sire. I can wrap them both right around my fingers. I've done it before."

The two men laughed.

"All right, Sheriff Vaisey, Lady Isabella, let's see what you can do."

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While Prince John mustered his army to send back with Vaisey, the inhabitants of Nottingham grew increasingly uneasy. Scouts reported no sign of Vaisey for a distance of two day's ride from the town. Some were beginning to doubt that he was coming at all. No word had come back from the king, so there was some question as to whether or not Robin's messengers had reached him. Morale was low. Robin's leadership skills were tested as never before, but he stood strong. The people had to be ready, for whatever came, whether that was a small group with Vaisey, or, as he was beginning to fear, a bigger force. He ordered the gates to be reinforced, and any citizens willing and able to leave the town to do so, for their own well-being.

Marian and Meg had, in the meantime, been living at the cottage, but they had not been idle. They arrived one afternoon, with supplies of medicines, bandages, and blankets from Matilda, and a promise from that good woman that she would soon join them. Marian had also gathered support amongst the villagers that remained behind, and a sizable number were coming to Nottingham to help out.

"Marian, I'd feel much better about you if you'd stay at the cottage. It's going to be very dangerous here."

"Yes, and if the town is attacked, there will be wounded people, Robin. Who will care for them? My place is here, with you. Don't try to send me away, because I won't go."

Robin hugged her. "My brave darling," he said. "I should make you leave. But it cheers me so to have you here, I don't think I can."

"Then don't try. And forget about Meg, too. She won't be parted from Guy."

"What's up with those two? Do you really think—"

"Oh, yes. At least on her side."

"This, from the girl who hated men. What about him, I wonder?"

"I don't know. Ask him. Any sign of Vaisey yet?"

"We've just sent another group of scouts. I expect them back by tomorrow."

Robin received word early the next morning.

"Sheriff Vaisey, and Isabella with him," Archer told Robin and the others gathered in the Great Hall. "And that's not all. An army follows them."

"Prince John's soldiers," said one of the other scouts.

"How many?"

"A few hundred, maybe more. They are no more than a day's march away, if that."

Robin frowned, and exchanged grim glances with Gisborne and the other outlaws.

"I should have gone after Isabella," he said, shaking his head. "She must have gotten back to London before he left, and warned them. I hope I haven't made a fatal mistake."

"Robin, there is still time," said Tuck. "We have time to prepare the town and the people."

"Against an army?" said Little John. "How?"

"First of all, we need to get everyone that can't fight out of Nottingham," said Robin. "Get them into the villages, into Sherwood. Organize the rest, every man and strong boy willing and able to defend the town. We'll put up barricades in case the gates are broken through. Get all the best archers up on the battlements. There will be wounded, no doubt. I'll get Marian and some of the other women to set up a safe place to bring them. If all else fails and the gates are taken, we can hole up in the castle. We can gather enough food and supplies to last a long time. And we need to try to send for help again. Someone needs to ride to meet the king at Portsmouth and speed his return."

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Soon, every one of the outlaws, and every leader from the villages and the town, had an assignment. The town was a swirl of frantic activity as most of the townspeople were evacuated from Nottingham, and led to the villages and safe refuges in the forest. Robin's men, and guards from the castle, worked feverishly to build barricades around the streets and equip every man from the stockpile in the armoury. Marian set up a place to bring the wounded in the Great Hall, and, with Matilda and Tuck's help, organized the volunteers for the task ahead.

Allan went to Robin, to offer to ride to the king.

"Allan, I need you here. Someone else can go."

"Robin, let me do it. Come on, I owe it to the lads, al'right? I know they're still miffed with me for joining up with Gisborne and betraying the gang. Give me the chance to redeem myself."

Robin finally consented, but not without misgivings. The mission was a dangerous one. The first two messengers had still not returned.

"I'll be careful, don't worry," Allan called over his shoulder as he rode off. "When I come back, I'll have the king and his whole army with me, and we'll make a big &*%# pile out of Vaisey!"

By early evening the last of the citizens who were willing to leave Nottingham were evacuated, and safe in the outlying villages and the Forest. The defenders of the town were on alert. All eyes strained in the twilight for any sign of the advancing army. They did not have to wait long.

"They're coming, I see them!" a man shouted from the tower of the castle.

Robin and Guy sat on their horses by the main gates of the town. They looked at each other when they heard the cry from the tower.

"Are you ready for this, Guy?"

"I'm right with you, Robin."


	26. Chapter 26 The Siege of Nottingham

THE SIEGE OF NOTTINGHAM

The gates of Nottingham were opened, and Robin and Guy rode out together to meet the Sheriff. He sat astride his horse, with the leader of his army, Blamire, beside him. Behind them, Prince John's troops, numbering into the hundreds, stood in threatening array. The lights of their blazing torches lit up the dark fields and hillsides, and glinted off the polished steel of lances and swords and coats of mail.

"Hood and Gisborne?" Blamire asked Vaisey, as he watched the two riders approach.

"Yes."

"Easy targets, the fools!" he scoffed. "Why don't we kill them now?"

"Now? Really, Blamire. Haven't you learned? A pleasure delayed is all the more enjoyable when it does come. It's too easy to kill them now. No challenge to it, no sport. And not half so much fun as it will be to take them unawares in the depths of the castle. Besides, we don't want to waste the prince's soldiers after we've marched all this way, do we? No, for now we're just going to have a chat with these fine gentlemen."

The two outlaws reached Vaisey, and reined in their horses. Vaisey looked them over and smiled.

"So, we meet again, Robin of Locksley. Thought you'd seen the last of me, perhaps? No doubt your new friend can fill you in."

He turned to Guy. "Gisborne, joined up with Hood, I see. The rumours are true. I might have known. How appropriate. You two deserve each other."

He gave them both a sneer. "So, might I ask what brought you boys together, hmm? Your mutual grief over our dear departed little leper friend Marian? Yes? Oh, how sweet, how touching. Don't you agree, Blamire?"

Robin nearly bit his tongue in half to keep it still. Vaisey would know, oh, yes, Robin would make sure he knew about Marian before he met his end, but now was not the time. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Guy struggling as well to keep silent. But Gisborne's eyes, which burned with a deep, savage hatred for the Sheriff, spoke for him, and Vaisey saw it. If that murderous glare unsettled him in any way, however, he gave no sign. He pointed at Guy.

"You tried to kill me. But you didn't check to see if I was dead, did you?"

He indicated a spot on his chest. "Right there. Very nasty wound. Gisborne, you always managed to foul things up. Never could carry a task through to its end. I was right to rid myself of you. And now I'm going to do so permanently. We will have our reckoning. You're a walking dead man. That goes for you, too, Hood."

"What do you want?" demanded Robin.

"What do I want? Come now, Robin, isn't it obvious? For starters, I want my town back! And I will have it. You will be defeated, and you will die, you and those who support you."

"You'll never take Nottingham back, not as long as there's breath in my body!"

"There won't be for long. Of course, I could make a little concession, in the interests of fair play. You are greatly outnumbered, after all. So, here are my terms. Very simple. Hand Gisborne over to me, leave peacefully, and I'll let you go."

Guy shot a quick glance at Robin, who shook his head.

"Never. You're the one who's going to leave in defeat, Vaisey."

"Hood, as much as I've enjoyed our little skirmishes in the past, I'm getting tired of them now. You're very predictable. As you won't listen to reason, I'm going to warn you one last time. I'll be extra nice and warn you twice. Here's the first warning."

He motioned behind him. Two soldiers stepped forward, carrying a large bundle between them, wrapped in a blanket. They set the object down and unrolled the blanket, which Robin saw was spotted with blood. Out rolled Allan, his body bloodied, twisted, and apparently lifeless. He lay unmoving on the grass.

Robin's gorge rose. "You murdering swine!" he shouted at Vaisey. "You'll pay for this!"

"Oh, such a pity!" mocked the Sheriff. "First Marian, and now your dear friend Allan a Dale. Upset over your messenger boy meeting with a bit of rough play? Maybe he's still alive. He was an hour ago, just. He stopped screaming a while back, though, so perhaps he's moved on. Probably for the best, poor Allan."

Guy was off his horse in an instant. He lifted Allan's body gently onto his saddle and remounted behind him.

"Very good. You have such a talent for finding out if people are really dead or not. By the way, that's a little demonstration of what's going to happen to the rest of you. Oh, except that I have something extra special planned for you, Gisborne."

"You'll never retake Nottingham. The only place you're going is straight to hell!"

"Speaking of hell, that brings me to my second warning."

Robin and Guy watched in fascinated horror as one of the two trebuchets the army had brought with them was rolled forward and loaded with what looked like a huge ball of black pitch. A soldier lit the mass with a torch, and the whole ball blazed up. The arm of the machine swung up and forward, hurling the flaming ball toward the town. It flew over the wall and into the street below. They saw flames leap up into the sky. The sound of screams reached them.

"Fun little toy, isn't it?" said Vaisey. "I've got plenty more of it, too. Last warning, Hood. Turn over Gisborne and leave town, or you'll get more of the same. You have until dawn."

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Robin and Guy rode back toward Nottingham's gate, seething with hate and sickened by what they had seen and heard. The gate opened to let them in. The first thing they saw was the remains of the missile, still burning, lying in the street. A crowd had gathered around it. Some were throwing buckets of water, but their efforts appeared to be ineffectual in dousing the flames.

Robin's men, waiting by the gate, let out a collective gasp when they saw Allan hung over Guy's saddle. They rushed forward to pull him off.

"Tell me he's not dead!" cried Much, his voice shaking. "He can't be! Allan!"

"Tuck! Here, help!"

They eased Allan down onto the ground. One side of his face was covered in blood. His legs were bent and twisted. Tuck pressed a finger to his neck, and then put his ear down on the young man's chest. He straightened up.

"I hear something. Very faint, but he's still with us."

"Can you do anything for him?"

"I can try. Let's get him inside."

Guy again lifted Allan's limp body, and they followed Tuck to the Great Hall. Tuck went to work, with Djaq and Marian assisting him. Meg and Matilda were attending three wounded townspeople, victims of Vaisey's "warning".

Guy stayed inside with Allan, while Robin went back out and gathered the rest of his men.

"Listen, all of you. Vaisey is determined to retake Nottingham, and he's got a sizable army with him, and a couple of trebuchets armed with something I've never seen before."

"The fireball?" asked Little John.

"Yes. He says we have until dawn before he lets loose more of that on us. But we have to fight back. Our defenses have to hold. We can't wait for King Richard to get here. And I want to make one thing clear. Gisborne is innocent. He's not in league with Vaisey, or Prince John. He's one of us now, just as much as any of you. I don't want any more argument about it. Guy's with us, and he's loyal. I'd trust him with my life, and you all need to trust me in this."

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Guy left the Hall and caught up with Robin outside. A crowd was still gathered around the fireball. Guy called Robin away to speak privately.

"Robin, perhaps we should consider doing what Vaisey said. I turn myself over to him, and you get yourself and these people out of here while you still can."

"No, Gisborne."

"Why not? No one else needs to die. You could have handed me over to the Sheriff back there. Why didn't you?"

"Guy, do you think I would do that to you? I wouldn't hand Vaisey over to Vaisey. And anyway, this whole thing is bigger than you. It's not just about you and the Sheriff, or you and Isabella for that matter. He's got a whole army out there just beyond the walls of Nottingham. Do you really believe he's going to be satisfied just to kill you? No, you'll only be the first. He'll do to you worse than he did to Allan before he kills you, and then he'll be after the rest of us. He won't stop until we're all dead, and the survivors in Nottingham so beaten down they'll never lift their heads again."

Guy looked thoughtful. "His forces far outnumber ours."

"I know. But we have to hold the city, by whatever means, until King Richard comes. Guy, please, I don't need any private heroics from you. I know you want to save these people as much as I do, but sacrificing yourself isn't going to do it. It won't stop Vaisey. He'll run rough-shod right over you, and then you'll be dead, for nothing. I need you alive, with me."

Robin gripped Guy's shoulders and looked earnestly into his face.

"I can't do this on my own! We've got a town full of merchants and shopkeepers and peasants. Many of them have never held a weapon in their lives. They're scared of what's out there. You and I are practically the only ones here who have any combat experience. My men are good fighters, but this is too big for them to handle. They need us, and they need you, to lead them and give them hope."

"I'm not exactly popular around this town, in case you hadn't noticed."

"No, but you will be if you stick by us and help us defend it. I can't tell you what to do. You're a free man. If you want to leave now, you can."

Guy shook his head firmly. "No, I'm not leaving. As long as Vaisey's still out there, Robin, this is all our fight. I'm with you, to whatever end."

"I knew I could count on you. And who's to say? We just might win this fight. Vaisey hasn't beaten us yet."

"Have you thought about—about what's going to happen to me if and when King Richard gets here?"

"I have."

"You don't really think he's going to be merciful, do you?"

"Listen to me. I won't lie to you. I don't know what will happen. I can't promise you anything but this—you are my friend and my brother, and I will stick by you, no matter what it costs me. You have my word."

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"What is that?" they all wondered aloud as they stood looking down at the smouldering remains of the fireball.

"Can't put it out with water," said Little John. "We tried."

"No, you can't," said Archer.

"You know what it is?" asked Robin.

"It's Byzantine fire."

"I've heard of it," remarked Tuck, "but I've never seen it used before. Nasty stuff."

"How did you know? Have you seen it before?" Robin asked Archer.

Archer shifted uneasily. "Ah, yes, well, actually, I sold it to him."

"What? You sold it—"

"Not to Vaisey! No, to his cousin, the Sheriff of York. You see, that's what I was in prison for."

"Explain yourself!" demanded Guy.

"How do you think I get by, on my good looks and charm?" Archer began, in a defensive tone. "I take the secrets I learned in my travels in the East and sell them. The Sheriff of York was just another customer to me. I didn't know he was going to sell it to Vaisey. When I found out, I refused to give him any more. He threatened me with the dungeon if I didn't change my mind, but I'd heard of Sheriff Vaisey's reputation, and didn't want the stuff falling into his hands. Of course, it's too late now, he got some of it."

"How much?"

"Not a lot, but enough to do some damage."

"This is just wonderful," Robin groaned.

"The Sheriff of York was angry about another thing, too," Archer went on. "Just a small matter, involving his wife. Pretty, much younger than him. She was fond of me. I might have been a little indiscreet—"

"I'm not sure I want to hear any more."

"Robin, nothing happened, I swear. It was just a little flirtation, nothing more. Quite harmless, really. But the Sheriff's a bit of a jealous type. Anyway, one thing and another, that's why he was bent on hanging me."

"Quite harmless, yes, except that now Vaisey's got his hands on this Byzantine fire and a pair of trebuchets. Enough to bring down the whole town. And you did it, for money."

It was Archer's turn to get angry.

"Listen, Robin, before you judge me, think about it from my standpoint! If either one of you had grown up like me, with nothing, you'd understand. I came out of that damned orphanage with the shirt on my back! I wanted something better for myself, a better life. Then I find out one of my long-lost brothers is the famous outlaw Robin Hood, who also happens to be the Earl of Huntingdon and Lord of Locksley Manor. He robs from the rich, or so I've been told."

"I give everything back to help the poor!"

"And you expect me to believe you keep nothing for yourself?"

Robin was ready with a reprimand, but Archer had turned from him to Guy.

"And my other brother is one Sir Guy of Gisborne. A rather expensive-sounding name, if I do say so. And—"

Before Archer could say another word, Guy grabbed him, shoved him roughly against the wall of the nearest house, and held him there. His face was dark with anger, his eyes glittered like a cold blue flame.

"Don't you ever 'Sir Guy' me again! You know nothing of what I've suffered, what I've had to endure!"

Their eyes met and locked, these two who shared a dead mother, and, as they were to learn, the same fiery, passionate temper as well.

Robin and the others could only watch, and hold their breath.

Finally, Archer's gaze dropped. He spoke very softly. "I shouldn't have said that, Guy. I'm sorry."

Guy turned to look at Robin, then back to Archer. Slowly, he released his grip. It was only then, as Archer slid back down, that Robin realized Guy had lifted their brother completely off the ground and held him against the wall with his feet dangling.

Not for the first time, or the last, was Robin thankful to have Gisborne on his side instead of against him.

Archer swallowed hard and adjusted his clothes. "I'm sorry, too, Robin."

He looked so contrite that Robin's quick anger faded. The dark flush left Guy's face.

"Come on, lads," Robin addressed all of them after a tense pause, "we need to work together here. Look, I don't care who's responsible for what. What matters right now is that Vaisey's got a weapon we have to defeat if we're going to save Nottingham. We've already had a taste of what he can do. What we need to do is knock out those trebuchets before he can throw any more of that #%& on us. He says we have until dawn, but if I know Vaisey, he won't wait that long. We have to act quickly. We need a plan, and I'm open to suggestions."

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Marian sat beside Allan, watching him stir restlessly. He had not regained full consciousness, which was just as well, considering the agony he would have been put through if he had been awake when Tuck and Djaq reset his broken legs.

She wet and wrung out a cloth in cool water, and laid it across his forehead to soothe him. His remaining eye opened briefly as she did so, and looked toward her, but soon shut again. He moaned softly.

"Allan, sshh. Just rest." She took his hand and held it between hers, and felt him relax. A dark shadow passed over her. She looked up, to see Guy standing over them. He dropped down to sit beside her.

"How is he?"

"Sleeping now, I think, or unconscious again. Matilda and Tuck believe if we can ward off an infectious fever he might stand a chance."

"His eye?"

"Guy, he's blind on that side. They gouged out his eye."

"Oh, God!" He couldn't speak for a moment.

"I guess we can only be thankful it wasn't both eyes," said Marian in a low voice.

"What about his legs?"

"Do you mean, will he ever walk again? We don't know. If he lives, we'll find out in time. Tuck and Djaq did everything they could."

"I'm sure they did."

Guy gazed down on Allan, and recalled the strange course of their acquaintance. He remembered the day he caught Allan in the tavern, and had him brought back to the castle and tortured until he agreed to spy on Robin for him. For several months they had worked together. He had always known Allan's heart and loyalty were divided, so it had come as no great surprise when the man had finally abandoned him at Portsmouth and run back to Robin, before the ill-fated trip to the Holy Land. But for all that, Allan had been a friend and comrade to him. His easy-going manner and irreverent sense of humour had been a cheering counterpoint to the oppressive atmosphere of Nottingham Castle under Vaisey, and Guy had grown fond of his company. Since he had joined the gang, and they were on the same side again, their friendship had deepened.

Seeing him now, lying white-faced and grimacing in pain, filled Guy with a bitter rage against the former Sheriff. Yet another undeserving victim of Vaisey's cruelty. Marian, Allan, and so many others. How many more would suffer before he was stopped?

"Where is Robin?" Marian's soft voice broke through Guy's private thoughts, and his deep and unspoken grief for Allan.

"Getting the men organized. I'm going back to help. Just wanted to see Allan."

"We'll take care of him. He's in good hands, Guy."

He turned to her and smiled, and lightly touched her arm. The gesture stopped just short of a caress. "I know he is."

He rose up, and saw Meg coming toward them.

"My brave little nurse," Guy said as she approached. Meg blushed.

"Matilda's teaching me what to do. I don't know anything. I'm only following her directions."

She slipped her arms around Guy's waist as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"How is Allan?" Meg asked.

"Okay for now."

Meg nestled against Guy and rested her head against his shoulder. He pulled her tighter into his embrace and gently stroked her hair, needing her comfort at that moment as much as she needed his.

Marian watched them walk to the far end of the room, arms around each other, to talk alone._ He did that to me once_, she thought, _when my father died. And I pushed him away. I'm glad now that he has someone who won't push him away. He needs her. He's been so lonely all his life. And she accepts him as he is. I never could, but she can. She knows what he's done, but she doesn't judge him. She sees the good in him far more than the bad. Meg loves him. Does he love her? I think maybe he does, or he could if things were different. But he knows more than she does what we are up against. There's no guarantee any of us will live to see another day._

_My brave Robin, he'll fight to the last to save Nottingham, and those he holds dear. And Guy is now Robin's friend, and unswervingly loyal to him. I never thought to see this day, to see these two men, one that I love, and the other that I once loved, finally put an end to their hatred and join forces. Strange how it's taken this terrible situation to bring them together. But they have become as close as brothers. Guy won't leave Robin. He'll be there beside him, come what may. He's Robin's shadow now, and his right arm. If the army invades the city, he'll be in the thick of the fight with him. But it may be their end, the end for all of us._

_Even if King Richard makes it here in time, and Vaisey is defeated, then what? All of us will have what we have long fought for—peace. But Guy, what will it bring for him? A trial, and then the axe, or the hangman's noose. He knows it. I can see it in his eyes. Robin will fight for him, but will it be enough to save him? And what of Meg? She loves him as I love Robin. What will happen to her if Guy is brought to face justice?_

_This is all Vaisey's doing. Sheriff Vaisey. So many lives shattered by him, so many dreams destroyed. He nearly took my life in Acre. I don't know if I will ever be able to carry a child now. My darling husband, who should be living happily in Locksley Manor, caring for his village, instead is forced to survive in a camp in Sherwood as a hunted outlaw. Our lives are forever lived in fear and in hiding._

_Will and Djaq, Little John, Tuck—outlaws with a price on their heads. Much, faithful, loyal Much, never to have his beloved Bonchurch. Their lives put on hold, perhaps for all time. Happy-go-lucky, fun-loving Allan, left half-blind, crippled, barely clinging to life. Guy, his life in ruins, and nothing to hope for. Meg, in love with him, but, I fear, soon to have her gentle and kind heart broken beyond repair._

_All the people taxed, starved, unjustly imprisoned, wrongly executed. So many lives destroyed by him._

Marian's head bowed low, overwhelmed with the sadness and futility of it all. Such waste, such suffering. She looked down at Allan, his face twisted in pain, and began to weep.

After a moment, she wiped her eyes hastily. She was needed, by so many. She had to stay strong for them, and for Robin. She looked up, and saw Guy and Meg standing together in the doorway, saying goodbye. Her arms were around his neck, her head against his chest. He bent and kissed her tenderly. One last embrace, and then he was gone. Meg turned back to her patients, but Marian saw the tears in her eyes as she walked past.

_He does loves her_, thought Marian._ And they could be happy together. But now they have to part, each knowing they may never see the other again. Just like Robin and I. It's so unfair._

Anger surged up in her breast, sweeping away the sadness. _Vaisey has to be stopped! He must be stopped before he can do any more harm. I must speak to Robin!_

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_

"Robin! Robin!"

She hesitated, seeing the room full of male faces turn to her. But Robin took her hand, and walked with her to the far end of the room, away from the others.

"Marian, I was coming to see you, don't worry."

"Robin, he's got to be stopped, Sheriff Vaisey. I can't bear the thought of any more of his—"

"Darling, that's what we're going to do. We're going to stop him."

He was smiling in a way that she remembered him doing in more carefree days.

"We're not defeated yet, Marian. Vaisey hasn't won, and he's not going to. He'll find out we're not as helpless here in Nottingham as he thinks. He's in for a few surprises yet."

"Such as?"

"First of all, we're going to take out those trebuchets before he can use them again."

"And I take it you have a plan?"

"Well, half-a-plan, anyway."

She found herself laughing. In the midst of so much fear and suffering, it felt wonderful to laugh with Robin.

"And who's going to carry out your half-a-plan, love?"

"Oh, myself and a handful of other crazy outlaws."

"And what about Guy?"

"He'll be there, too. Can't do without him. He's the craziest of the bunch."

"Robin!" she chided.

"Who walked alone into the Great Hall, dressed up as a guard, and single-handedly took on Prince John and Isabella both, with a hundred and more guests and who knows how many other guards watching? If that isn't crazy, I don't know what is. I'm only too happy to have Gisborne on my side. If we had one or two more like him, we could drive off the whole army out there."

"You will be careful, whatever you're planning?"

"I promise you that. I haven't come this far, with you, to throw my life away. I won't give that victory to Vaisey. And I'll look after the others, too, including the crazy man. For you."

"I'm thinking of Meg, silly. Robin, they love each other."

He smiled and kissed her. "I know they do. He told me as much. We won't leave Meg a widow before she's even married him. Trust me, love, we'll all be careful. None of us wants to die, we've got too much to live for."

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Late that night, Robin and his men put their plan into action. Under cover of darkness, they climbed up and over the walls of the town, and crept toward the trebuchets. While the other outlaws drew the sentries away, and kept them busy hunting down the source of various and strange noises coming from the tall grass, Robin, Archer, and Guy crawled on their stomachs toward the first trebuchet. Archer pulled his knife and immediately set to work cutting and retying ropes on the machine. He paused to study his progress.

"Hurry up, Archer!" whispered Robin urgently.

"What do you think I'm doing, twiddling my thumbs? Hang on, just a minute more."

He sawed through another rope on the frame of the trebuchet.

"Archer! Come on!" whispered Guy, even more urgently.

"Do you two want to do this yourselves? No? Then pipe down and let me concentrate."

"I thought you knew what you were doing."

"I do, but it's blacker than Vaisey's heart out here. I can hardly see my hands. I've got to get this just right or it won't work."

"Are you sure the fireball will fall back on the trebuchet and destroy it?" asked Robin. "We need it destroyed completely, Archer, otherwise they'll just repair it and be back in business in no time at all."

"Trust me, this will work. I know what I'm doing."

Guy glared over at Robin.

"Don't look at me!" Robin shot back at him. "He's your brother, too."

"Yes, but he sounds just like you. So sure he knows—"

"Gisborne—"

"Guy, Robin, both of you shut up, before every soldier in the place knows what we're doing! Here, make yourselves useful and hold this for me while I finish."

They crept through the grass to the other trebuchet. This time Robin and Guy managed to quell their squabbling while Archer sabotaged the other machine.

"There, done," he whispered. "Let's get out of here."

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As Robin had predicted, Vaisey did not wait until dawn. In the predawn darkness and quiet, the Sheriff ordered the trebuchets to be moved into position, loaded with the Byzantine fire, and set aflame. The men released the levers. The huge arms of the machines swung up, and then came crashing down, exploding the fireballs on top of the timber frames. As Archer had promised, they were utterly destroyed.

Vaisey was so angry that he was rendered momentarily speechless, and could only hop up and down, shaking his fists and and kicking every soldier within reach, but the defenders of Nottingham let out such a loud cheer that it was heard by every man in Prince John's army.

"Told you, didn't I?" bragged Archer, but his brothers only hugged him hard.

"That's it," growled Vaisey to Blamire. "That's Hood's answer to us. So be it. Gather the army. Have them march on the gates. You and I, we have another job to do. Find Isabella."

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The sun was just breaking over the horizon when Prince John's army stormed the main gates of Nottingham. They were met with heavy fire from the defenders on the battlements. The fight raged on until mid-morning, at which point there were too few archers on the walls to hold back the prince's forces. Robin's men were driven into retreat, and Prince John's soldiers threw up ladders to scale Nottingham's thick walls.

"They're on the walls, Robin! We can't hold them off, there's too many of them!" one of the castle guards told him.

"Get our lads out of there and behind the barricades," Robin answered. "We don't need to lose any more men!"

"Robin!" Guy called to him from the battlement, "They're bringing up a battering ram!"

"Get down from there, Guy, and bring the others with you!"

The gates of Nottingham shuddered under the heavy blow of the ram. The men rushed to brace the gates with anything they could find, but a shower of arrows from the prince's men, now in control of the walls, drove them back. Every man but Guy and Robin quickly scurried behind the barricades.

"We're far outnumbered!" Robin told him. "It'll be the death of all of us if we stay out here. It's no use, Guy, the city's broken through. We need to get to the castle!"

Guy shoved a timber up against the gate, and nodded. "Yes, you're right. You lead them to safety, Robin, I'll hold the gates until you're all inside."

"What? Are you crazy? Guy, they're going to break through at any minute—"

"Yes, and if that army out there does get through these gates, every man in here will die. Get our men out, Robin, get them into the castle! I'll hold these bastards off as long as I can. Go, now!"

"Guy, you can't—"

"Don't argue with me, just do it!"

He turned and grabbed up another timber as the ram bashed against the gates once again. Robin saw there was nothing else to be done. The men with them, except for the castle guards, were mostly peasants with little or no experience with weapons, let alone a siege. Among them were a few citizens of Nottingham as well, men who had talked bravely enough about defending their town, until the army was at their doors. Now most of them were terrified and cowering behind the barricades, too afraid of the archers on the walls to come out. Robin knew he had to lead them, even if it meant leaving Guy to hold the gates by himself.

Sick with fear for his friend and brother, but knowing he had a duty and responsibility to many others, he rounded up the men and sent them in small groups across the square toward the castle entrance. The walls around the square shielded them from most of the archers, and man after man made it to the safety of the castle doors, with only a few injuries.

Guy was not so protected. Robin watched in helpless horror as arrows flew all around him. One grazed Guy's scalp, and Robin saw the blood flow down his face. The gates were struck by the ram again, and the doors broke into splinters. Guy was still propping them up with every timber he could find, but it was a losing battle. The savage war cries of Prince John's soldiers echoed through the square.

"Gisborne!" shouted Robin. "Get yourself out of there!"

But Guy, seeing that not all of the defenders had made it to the castle yet, glared fiercely back at Robin and shook his head no. He continued to pile timbers against the broken gates, only now he had to dodge, not just arrows, but the long lances that the soldiers thrust through the holes in the gates. One of the lances cut his hand. Another arrow struck him in the thigh. He pulled it out and kept on.

Robin led the last group of men in a zig-zag run across the square. Arrows whizzed past. A man was hit in the leg. He screamed and fell. Robin and another man grabbed him up and carried him the rest of the way.

As they reached the castle doors, they saw that the prince's troops had finally broken through and were climbing over the wreckage of the gates. Guy drew his sword and moved back, and turned to look at Robin.

"We're all safe! Get out of there, now! Gisborne, run!"

He needed no further encouragement. Robin would never have believed that a big man like Guy, with a leg wound, could run so fast if he hadn't seen it himself. Arrows and thrown lances flew all around him as he careened wildly across the square, with heavily armed and maddened soldiers hot on his heels. Robin held his breath, as did the men with him.

"Come on, come on, run!" whispered Robin. "Don't go down now! Please don't let him die!"

Guy, racing just a few yards ahead of his pursuers, reached the doors of the castle at last. Robin grabbed his arm and yanked him inside, and together they slammed shut and bolted the doors. The soldiers hurled themselves against the doors in a fury of bloodlust, but the doors were solid oak covered with iron. Pound as they might, they could not get in. For now, the men of Nottingham were safe.

"Not today, boys! Sorry!" Robin shouted at them through the doors. The defenders laughed with relief.

"Thank you, Robin!" they said, one and all. Then they turned to Gisborne. Robin looked up at him, in awestruck wonder that he was still alive. Guy's face was completely plastered with blood from the arrow cut across his scalp. He was a fearsome sight, but he flashed a roguish grin at Robin.

"You really are crazy, aren't you?" said Robin, as he shook his head in disbelief at the man.

"Crazy? No. Just doing my job," Guy replied.

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They reached the Great Hall, filled with the wounded and those tending to them. Tuck came up to see to Guy, while Robin checked in with Marian and Matilda.

"Hmm, looks worse than it is," said Tuck as he cleaned Guy's head wound. "Cuts to the scalp always bleed a lot. Here, hold this cloth against it while I clean up your face."

He washed the gory mess off Guy's face, and then bandaged his wound.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"Little cut on my hand, and an arrow in my left thigh. I pulled it out. Don't think it went in very deep."

"Let's take a look."

"It's a scratch. It's nothing."

"Gisborne, get the trousers off."

"What, here?"

He had already stripped to the waist so that Tuck could wash off the blood running from his head down his back and chest. He frowned at Tuck.

"Please, at least not in front of Meg."

Tuck smiled. "She's been tending wounded men all day. I don't think she'll see anything she hasn't already seen."

Guy sighed, dropped his trousers to his knees, and sat down.

"You'll need to take them all the way off, and your boots," said Tuck. "You've got blood running down your leg and into your boot."

"Tuck—"

"The room's full of naked and half-naked men, Gisborne. You're in good company. No one's going to be staring at you."

He examined the wound. "It's not terrible, but it's deep enough. It's got to be cleaned up and stitched, or you won't be able to walk around on it. Wait here, I'll get some more bandages."

"Need some help?" came a familiar feminine voice from behind them.

Guy made a grab for his trousers, but Meg got them first, and held them out of his reach.

"Guy, you heard Tuck! Now, sit still and let us help. I won't look at you, so you needn't blush so. I'll just hand Tuck what he needs. I'm a nurse, remember? You said so yourself."

Guy submitted to Tuck's ministrations with a burning face and his hands over his lower parts. It didn't help matters that Meg was so entertained by his modesty, or that the salve Tuck spread across the wound to numb the skin stung ferociously.

"Ow, %*#&! That hurts!"

"It'll hurt a lot more if I stitch you up with no salve," answered Tuck. "Stop yelling and hold still."

"It bloody well hurts!" retorted Guy, "and I'll yell if I want to!"

Meg giggled. Guy's scowl turned to an apologetic grimace.

"I'm sorry, Meg. You, too, Tuck. I know you're only trying to help."

Tuck smiled patiently, as unfazed as Meg by the man's quick and ready temper.

"I'll look at your hand when I'm done here. Hang on, just a few more minutes."

"I've been listening to wounded men cursing everything under heaven all day long," Meg told Guy as she smoothed his hair over his bandaged forehead. "And I've seen plenty of bare naked today, too, so don't be embarrassed. I'm not a little girl after all."

He looked up at her, and realized she was right. His face softened to a smile.

"No, you're not a little girl, Meg. You're a woman, and a very brave and beautiful one."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Meg rejoined Marian and Robin, to allow Guy to get his clothes back on with minimal manly discomfort.

"How is he?" asked Robin.

"He'll be okay," said Meg. "There's nothing wrong with his lungs, anyway. What happened out there, Robin? How did he get hurt?"

Robin looked at Marian and Meg both. "I'll tell you the whole story when I have more time, but I'm sure you'll hear it from others, too. I'll just say this. Every man that was out there with us at the gates owes his life to Gisborne. That includes myself. We'd all be dead now if it wasn't for him. He held off that whole army, by himself, while I got the men into the castle. He saved our lives, every one of us."

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**Author's Note:** A big thank you to all the readers of this tale! I truly appreciate your interest and your reviews and suggestions, and for sticking with me through such a long story! The last few chapters are coming up soon.

A note to MerlinWizardPurr, who wrote such a nice review-thank you! I'm sorry I couldn't thank you personally, as I wasn't able to send you a PM. So I'll do it here. Your comments made my day! (and almost made me cry, seriously) Your review, and those of others, have made the countless hours I spent last year slumped over the computer, battling writer's block and pulling my hair out, worthwhile.

So glad you liked the Guy/Archer interactions, and the unexpected Guy/Little John friendship. I thought it might be fun to have those two learn to like each other in spite of themselves. As for Meg, no, sorry-the story's already written. I'm not going to make her a fighter. She's more of a traditional girl. But she has her voice to defend herself with, and she can look after herself pretty well!

Okay, so now Gizzy's the saviour of Nottingham. Sorry, I know his act of heroism was a bit over-the-top, LOL! But, hey, if he's going to be the hero, he might as well earn that title by doing something big, right? So, what will happen to him next? How about the Sheriff? And Allan? And, well, everyone else? More to come!


	27. Chapter 27 Brothers in Arms

BROTHERS IN ARMS

Robin called all the remaining able-bodied defenders together at one end of the Great Hall, and instructed them to stay inside the castle and guard every door, window, and gate.

"Ralf, James, get word to Little John and Archer. Tell them the main gates are broken through. Get everyone who's still outside back here. We'll make sure every entrance is locked down tight. Guy, you okay?"

"I'll be fine. Who's left outside?"

"Only a handful. Archer, Much, Will, and John are with a group up at the north end of town. I sent them to keep an eye on the gate there, just in case Vaisey tried to come in that way, but the attack seems to have been just on the main gates. We'll pull them out. No use in them staying there, the town's overrun. Once everyone's inside, we'll be safe, am I right?"

"Short of the army tearing down the walls of the castle with their bare hands, yes," answered Guy. "There's no way in once the entrances are secured. All we can do now is hope our last two scouts made it through, and didn't meet the same fate as Allan."

"We have to hold on, no matter what. Here comes Archer now. What news?"

"We're all well, Robin," Archer reported. "We heard the noise before we saw the soldiers, and everyone got inside. Prince John's men are sweeping the streets, looking for stragglers, but as far as anyone knows, we're all safe."

"Good. Come with me, both of you. Guy, you know this place better than I do. Let's make sure we didn't overlook anything."

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The three men made a thorough circuit of the entire castle, but all was safe. They were headed back toward the Great Hall when they met up with Little John, Will, and Much, and a group of men with them, just returned from their post at the north gate. They stopped to catch up on news. Much was disgusted with what they had witnessed outside.

"Prince John's men, they're all over the town," he told Robin, "like a pack of wolves. Setting fires, looting. What I wouldn't give to see their faces if King Richard showed up! He'd soon sort them out!"

"He'll be here, Much, just as soon as he gets word. They won't get away with this, trust me."

Guy, standing near them, caught a glimpse of a quick, furtive movement out of the corner of his eye. Someone was in the hallway ahead of them, someone who wanted to be seen, but not openly. He drew his sword and moved cautiously up the hall. Archer called after him, and when Guy didn't answer, pulled his own sword and followed him.

"What is it?" he asked again.

"Someone's in here," Guy replied. "Not one of ours."

The two men rounded the corner slowly, swords held in front of them. There, several yards down the hall, leaning against the wall and smiling tauntingly at them, was their mysterious visitor.

"Isabella!" whispered Guy. "How did she get in here?"

"What is she doing? Guy, I don't like this! Let's go back and get the others."

"No, there's no time. Archer, let me take care of this."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going after her, what else? And put a stop to this once and for all!"

"Guy!" But his brother had already disappeared around the next corner in pursuit of his fleeing quarry. Archer hurried back to the others, who were ready to return to the Great Hall.

"What is it, Archer? What's wrong? Where's Guy?"

Archer told them.

"Isabella? How did she get in?" asked John.

"She must have gotten inside before the doors were all locked," said Robin. "John, Will, the rest of you, make sure no other unwanted guests are lurking around. If she got in, there might be others. Archer, let's find Guy and Isabella."

"I'm worried, Robin. He might be walking into a trap."

"That's my fear, too. Which way did they go?"

"Follow me!"

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"Isabella! Where are you? Show yourself!"

Guy's voice echoed around the empty, dimly lit chamber deep in the castle, on the lowest level near the dungeons.

"Right over here," she said. She stepped out from behind a stone pillar. Her face wore a mocking smile.

"How did you get in here? What are you doing?"

She laughed. "You so want to kill me, don't you? What's stopping you?"

"Isabella, what is this? What kind of a game are you playing this time?"

"You loved me once," she continued, her voice slow and deliberate, "didn't you, brother? Long ago. But not anymore. So, why don't you kill me now? You did as much to me years ago when I was a child."

"That's not true! Don't try to lay that on me! And why did you try to kill Meg? What harm did she do to you?"

"Is she your sweet little lover now, Guy? Too bad for her. She got what she deserved, just like you're going to."

Four more figures stepped out of the gloomy corners of the chamber. They encircled Guy and fenced him in with swords drawn.

"You loved me once, too, Gisborne. Like a father."

"Vaisey!"

"You walked right into our trap, didn't you? I knew baby sister would be the perfect bait, and I was right. You're terribly gullible, Gisborne. Led like a sheep to the slaughter. You've made this almost too easy for us. And now, you're going to die."

Guy looked around at the circle of swords, and the hard, pitiless faces. Vaisey, Blamire, and two brawny guards. Four to one. There was no way out. He stared at Isabella in dismay.

"You did this? You planned this?"

She only smiled.

"Shall we kill him?" asked Blamire, lifting his sword.

Vaisey, not taking his eyes off Guy, shook his head and motioned Blamire back.

"No, he's mine. The man who tried to kill me. I want the first strike, Blamire. When he's down, the rest of you can help me finish him off. We'll cut him up into a thousand little pieces to take back as a gift to the prince. Oh, this is going to be so enjoyable, for us, anyway. I doubt you'll find it quite so pleasant, Gisborne!"

"Not so fast, Vaisey," said a voice from the doorway.

"Hood!"

"That's right. That's my friend you're speaking to. If you want revenge on him, you'll have to come through me first."

Robin stepped into view, and looked over reassuringly at Guy. The man's face was sickly pale with fear, but, buoyed by the sight of Robin, he took fresh hold on the hilt of his sword.

"Ha, both of you at once!" cried Vaisey. "Good, very good! This will be twice the fun, and twice the triumph when we kill you! A battle this huge should come down to the important few. But, you're still outnumbered."

Archer moved out of the shadows to stand beside Robin.

Vaisey sneered and gestured toward Archer. "Don't know you. Another one of your mangy, flea-bitten followers, Hood?"

"He's my mother's foolish mistake," replied Isabella. "My half-brother, or so he told me, while these beasts had me locked up. As if my mother could have given birth to a bit of low-class trash like him! Look at us, the whole sorry family!"

"Hood, Gisborne, and you, whatever your name is, you're all dead men."

"You're the one who's going to be dead, Vaisey. You're going to pay for what you've done. This ends here, today."

"Oh, so melodramatic, Hood! Come on, then, pretty boy, let's see what you're made of!"

Robin glanced at Archer and Guy in turn. "We're together on this."

Guy nodded. "I'm with you, Robin."

"Brothers in arms!" said Archer.

The first blow was struck. All of them knew there would be no turning back from this place, this time. Some fought for their lives and the lives of loved ones, for the freedom of Nottingham and its people, for King Richard. Others fought for themselves, for power, for revenge. The battle raged fiercely, neither side giving way.

The two guards were the first to fall, one to Robin and the other to Archer. Vaisey and Blamire kicked their bodies out of the way, and faced off against the three outlaws. The fight intensified. The clashing of swords ricocheted off the cold and damp stone walls.

Isabella, backed away in a corner, watched Guy exchange blows with Vaisey. In the midst of the fight, a sudden, unexpected memory came to her, of a day long ago, when she had been only a very little girl. Their father had gone away to the Crusades. She had run off into the woods and cried inconsolably, until her brother had found her and comforted her. Guy had spent the whole next day with her, despite the teasing from the other village boys. He had taken her for a walk through the fields and woods near Locksley, while telling her fanciful stories of the animals that lived in the forest. At the end of the day they had picked a great armload of flowers to take home to their mother.

The memory of it, and of the many other times throughout their childhoods when her older brother had shown her kindness and love, came back to her, in the terror and darkness of that hour in the bowels of Nottingham Castle.

As she watched him, she wondered if a trace of the affectionate and protective brother he had once been to her, before their lives had gone so sadly awry, was still there. _Perhaps_, she thought, _it's not too late for us to win each other back, to be a family again. We're both angry. We've hurt each other, we hate one another. I don't know if we could ever get past that, but there might be something that could be saved, if we tried. Perhaps—_

She was never to know.

"Isabella, get him!"

Vaisey's shout jolted her back to the present. Guy did not see her. She saw her chance to take revenge, to kill or at least wound him, so that Vaisey could finish him. She crept behind him, and lifted her knife to stab him in the back, but then she hesitated, and suddenly dropped the knife as though it were a red-hot coal in her hand.

_No, this is all wrong! _she realized, as her heart caught in her throat. _I hate him, how I hate him, but I can't go through with this. No,_ _I can't kill my own brother!_ _Guy—_

Vaisey took note. He saw her wavering, her reluctance. For him, it was an intolerable betrayal. At the moment of decision, Isabella had failed him, as her brother before her had done. He would not give her a second chance. He drove Guy off, toward Blamire and Robin. Then he struck.

Isabella screamed and collapsed. Archer rushed to her even as Robin and Guy fought Blamire and Vaisey into a corner. Blamire sliced through Robin's coat, cutting his arm. Guy thrust him back.

Torn by grief for his sister, Guy fought on, side by side with Robin. Blamire soon fell to his sword, dropping to the floor like a stone. His death left only the former Sheriff fighting both of them with a strength born of desperation. Beaten down, at last he stumbled to the floor, his sword knocked from his hand.

"Now Hood, Gisborne, that's enough!" he yelled defiantly at them.

Robin raised his sword. "Before you die, Vaisey, know this. You don't do such a good job of finding out if people are really dead, either. Marian isn't dead. You didn't kill her. She survived. And she's my wife now. Guy and Archer, they are my brothers. You lost Nottingham. King Richard will be here soon, to defeat Prince John's troops. You failed, Vaisey. And now you're going to pay the price. This is for all the lives you ruined! This is for all the innocent people you killed!"

Vaisey's eyes momentarily widened in stunned disbelief, and then narrowed in fury. Treacherous to the last, he rolled just enough to grab his sword and take a vicious slash at them. He missed Robin, but caught Guy a slice across his chest. Guy cried out in pain. Nevertheless, he stood firm, raised his own sword, and joined with Robin in putting a final end to Sheriff Vaisey's long and bloody reign.

In a moment it was over. Vaisey lay still, and did not move again.

"Make sure," said Guy. "I don't trust myself!" His sword dropped from his shaking hands.

"It's over, Guy," Robin told him, as he put a hand on his shoulder to steady him. "He's gone."

They turned from him and knelt down beside Isabella. Archer supported her head. She was still alive, but would not be for long. Robin and Guy, both experienced in war, knew, when they saw her wound, that there was no hope. They gazed at each other in mute sorrow. Guy gathered his sister gently into his arms.

"Guy….is this the end? Am I going to die?"

"Isabella, I'm so sorry." Tears streamed down his face. "Forgive me!"

"I'm sorry, too. I wish….Guy….forgive me…."

"I have," he answered her. "Be at peace now."

He touched her cheek and took hold of her hand. As he did so, the hate faded from her eyes. Her face became serene, untroubled. She smiled softly up at her brother, and quietly breathed her last.

Guy closed her eyes, and held her against his chest. He wept, long and bitterly, while Robin sat beside Archer. Both were silent.

"Robin, Archer," Guy said after some time, in a broken voice, "no matter what she did to me or anyone else, she was still my sister. Please, I can't leave her here. The people of Nottingham, they might dishonour her. I want to bury her—"

Robin took his arm. "We will, I promise you. We'll give her a proper burial when this is all over. For now we'll take her somewhere safe."

"What about them?" asked Archer, looking down at Blamire and Vaisey, and the two guards.

"King Richard can deal with them. As for Vaisey—"

"He doesn't deserve a burial," said Archer.

"No, he doesn't, but he'll get one anyway. We won't leave him for the carrion birds. If we did, we'd be no better than him."

Guy stood and gazed down at the body of the man who had for so many years been his master.

"Robin," he murmured, "don't ask me to do it. I don't think I can."

Robin understood. "We won't, Guy. My men and I will do it."

"Let's get back to the others," said Archer. "You're both hurt. Here, let me take Isabella."

"No."

"Guy, she was my sister, too. Come, you're hurt. Let me carry her for you."

Guy moved back and let Archer lift her. Together they went to the Great Hall. Archer laid Isabella's body down on a blanket, and covered it. Marian and Meg saw them, and quickly walked over.

"Is she—"

"Vaisey killed her," Robin told Marian and Meg. "The bastard. She put her faith in him, and that was her reward."

Meg went to Guy and held him. "I'm so sorry. And you, too, Archer."

"What about Vaisey?"

"He tried to lead us both into a trap, with Isabella as the bait. We fought him and Blamire. They're dead. Vaisey's dead, Marian. Guy and I killed him."

"Robin, he's really gone, for good?"

"Yes, but this battle isn't over yet."

"It's over for you, my love. You're hurt."

"I'll be fine," he protested, but she had already pulled his coat off and was leading him toward Matilda.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Matilda and Marian tended to Robin's cut arm. Guy's wound was painful but superficial. Tuck, with Meg's assistance, cleaned it for him, and wrapped his chest with a bandage.

"I'm going to be more scars than skin if this keeps up," said Guy. "You okay, Locksley?"

"Yeah," Robin replied through clenched teeth. "I will be. You?"

"I've had worse. Ruined a perfectly good coat, though. I bled like a stuck pig."

Guy held the bloodstained coat up for Robin to see. A long tear sliced through the front of the thick leather.

"Vaisey always made fun of my heavy coats," he said. "But I guess I got the last laugh, didn't I?"

"You're damned lucky, Gisborne, you know that, don't you?"

They smiled at each other through the pain.

A sudden, exuberant shout from the balcony rang out over the Hall.

"King Richard! King Richard is here, with his army!"

An astonished murmur rippled through the people in the Hall, which became cries of joy and applause.

"We're saved!" the people exclaimed. "The king is here, long live King Richard!"

Robin snatched up his coat and sword.

"Marian, I'll go with Archer and Tuck to find out what's happening."

"Robin—"

"I'll be fine. Stay here and look after the others."

Robin turned to Guy. At the mention of the king, Guy's face had grown pale with more than pain.

"Stay here with Marian and Meg. Keep out of sight for now."

Guy nodded, but Robin saw clearly the fear in his eyes.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In a short time, the disorganized and leaderless troops of Prince John were in full flight from the king's men. The defenders of Nottingham, Robin Hood and his men among them, poured from the castle to join in the chase, and the retreat became a panicked rout. At nightfall, King Richard and his men returned triumphant, and entered through Nottingham's shattered gates, while the survivors from the prince's army limped back to London in defeat.

A long night of celebration followed, though it was tempered by their losses. Relatively few had died, but a good many were wounded. King Richard sent in his personal physician and other trained men in his army to assist the overwhelmed little group of caregivers in the Great Hall, with the result that fewer amongst the wounded died.

The next morning, relief efforts for the people were organized. The displaced citizens of Nottingham were led back from their hiding places in the villages and forest, and allowed to return to their homes. Prince John's invading army, though in the town for only a short time, had contrived to do a fair amount of damage to many homes and shops. There was much cleanup work to be done. Robin spent the first half of the day in company with King Richard, along with Tuck and Much, as he took a tour of the city to assess the needs of the survivors. Earlier that morning, Robin had sent Guy to Locksley Manor with John and a few other men, to help the villagers with food and supplies.

At noon, all of them, except Guy, met back in the Great Hall. Robin approached Richard, who was seated at the table and in the chair once occupied by Sheriff Vaisey. The injured men who could be moved had been relocated to the inn nearest the castle, and the Great Hall had been commandeered as the king's temporary headquarters.

"Sire, I respectfully request to be excused for the afternoon," Robin told the king. "I have something I must do, for a friend."

Richard looked hard at Robin. "I need you here. Is this so important?"

"It is, sire, or I would not ask it."

"Very well, but come back as soon as you can. We have need of your leadership."

Robin left, and found Archer and Marian. Meg insisted on accompanying them as well. Robin knew she was doing it for Guy's sake, despite what Isabella had done to her, and he saw that Marian was right about their new friend. Meg was young in years, but not in heart.

The four of them rode to Locksley Manor, where Guy was waiting. His face showed his sorrow plainly. Robin and Archer embraced him, and Marian took his arm in comfort.

"We're here, Guy. Come, let's help her find peace."

Isabella was buried in the little cemetery overlooking Locksley Village, beside her father and mother. Guy had deemed it best that the burial be private, and Robin agreed.

Guy and Archer stood together by the grave. Archer's grief was more abstract. He had never gotten to know Isabella, except in her final vengeful madness. But Guy's grief was deep and intense, all the more so as he blamed himself in part for his sister's untimely death.

"I wish I could have saved her," he said through his tears, "for the sake of our parents. She wasn't always like this, like she was at the end. She was different when we were children. It's my fault. If I hadn't given her to Thornton—"

"You tried," Robin broke in gently. "You did. You gave her every chance when we had her in the prison. You tried to talk sense into her. She wouldn't hear you. She made her own choices, just like we all do."

"I've made plenty of bad choices myself," Guy went on. "But I'm still alive, for now, anyway. Robin, I should have apologized to her sooner. Her life was terrible. I didn't want to see—"

"You did say you were sorry, Guy. She forgave you, and you, her. She's at peace now."

Guy swallowed hard, and then nodded toward Robin.

"Yes. I pray that she is."

Then he added, in a whisper that only Robin heard, "Perhaps in the long run she's better off than I am."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Later that day, at twilight, with the king's permission, Robin, Much, and Will buried Vaisey, quickly and without ceremony, in an unmarked grave outside the walls of Nottingham. As much as they had all hated him, they did not want to see any of the town's inhabitants taking their revenge by mutilating the body.

"There, that's done," Robin said over the grave. "He got a quicker and easier death than he gave many of his victims."

"You should've made Gisborne bury him," remarked Will, but Robin shook his head.

"No, Will. He didn't want to do it, and I understand why. No, it was better that we did it. Guy had to bury his sister today. He's been through enough."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The clean-up in Nottingham continued for another week. King Richard's troops busied themselves helping the townspeople to clear the streets of rubble, and begin the process of rebuilding. Other, more grim tasks also took place—the burials of the dead. Though few had died, for Robin, even one death was too many. Despite the grief and sadness at the loss of loved ones, however, there was an undercurrent of joy amongst the citizens, so long repressed under the rule of Vaisey and Lady Isabella.

Many wanted Robin to be the new Sheriff. Robin, though grateful, flatly refused the position. He wanted nothing more than to return to Locksley with Marian when all was put right. In his place, King Richard installed a man of his acquaintance, Sir William of Gloucester, to be the new Sheriff of Nottingham. Sir William was a wealthy landowner, but also a generous and fair-minded man, who immediately made himself very popular by giving unstintingly out of his personal stores to assist the people.

Meg stayed at the castle with Marian and Robin, while Guy and the other former outlaws spent their nights at Locksley Manor. Meg found her father soon after the siege was ended, and father and daughter reconciled. Meg met her father's bride-to-be, and was pleased to discover that the woman who was to be her stepmother was their neighbour, someone she had known for years, and a sensible and good-hearted woman. She was happy for her father, and longed to tell both of them about her own happiness with Guy, but she stopped herself, aware of the precarious situation he was yet in with the king.

Robin, busy attending to the king's orders, also had Guy's safety very much on his mind, and did not want to take any chances that he might be seen by the king or any of his men. He kept Guy out of Nottingham as much as possible, and sent him, with John and Will, into the villages to deliver food and supplies, and offer any help that could be given.

It took a good deal of convincing on the part of Guy's companions to assure the people of Locksley, Nettlestone, and Clun that the black-clad and menacing Gisborne, who had bullied them for so many years, was now a friend of Robin of Locksley and Lady Marian, and was there to help them, not punish or arrest anyone.

At first, many fled into their homes in terror at the sight of him. They would have been surprised to know that Guy had his own, equal fears. He expected an arrow or a knife in his back at every turn. Gradually, as word got around of Gisborne's actions at the siege, the villagers became less fearful, and more welcoming of the assistance he brought them.

What a strange, and yet gratifying, sight it was for the villagers to see the proud and imposing Sir Guy of Gisborne, who had looked down upon them with a haughty disdain for years, now wield a manure fork, instead of a sword, in a peasant's barn.

And if he grumbled a bit, and muttered a few foul oaths under his breath, while he worked alongside Little John hoeing the weeds from a vegetable garden of an elderly peasant woman who looked on in delight, at least she didn't hear him. Even Will and Much relented in their antipathy toward Guy when they saw him take on such humble tasks, though they could hardly be blamed for taking a certain fiendish pleasure in seeing him thus engaged!

Meg kept herself busy at the castle and around Nottingham, caring for the wounded and comforting bereaved families. She and Guy saw one another at odd moments each day. She was always glad to see him, and was ready with a hug and a loving smile to cheer him and lighten his somber expression. She looked forward to the days ahead, as did the others.

A good man was in power in Nottingham now, a just and kind man, which the people had not experienced since Marian's father, Sir Edward, had been Sheriff. Robin and Marian would soon be established at home in Locksley Manor. Much dared to dream once more of his promised little estate at Bonchurch. Little John, Will, and Djaq would find their place in the new Nottingham. They were free people now, no longer outlaws.

And Allan clung tenaciously to life, under the care of Matilda and Tuck, at Locksley Manor. He had regained consciousness, and was aware of what had been done to him, but was already showing a stubborn determination not to let his ordeal at Vaisey's hands destroy his will to live. His friends were beginning to believe he would not only survive his terrible injuries, but someday even walk again.

In Meg's mind, Guy, too, had a future ahead of him. Had he not acted heroically at the siege, and saved many lives by his selfless act at the gates of the town? Surely, nothing bad could happen to him now! The king would see the man he was, and pardon any wrongdoing he had committed in the past! His future appeared bright, and she hoped to share that future with him.

But Guy, despite what Meg in her innocent faith in him believed, knew that no such happy future awaited him. He did his relief work amongst the villagers with a strong back and a willing spirit, but inside, his heart was heavy. He watched Meg, born to a life of comfort and privilege, roll up her sleeves and work tirelessly among the people. She did not shrink back from helping even the lowliest peasant. No task, however unpleasant, was beneath her, and the people of Nottingham loved her for it. Everywhere he heard her name spoken in gratitude and praise, but this only served to sink his heart further.

The days grew dark for Guy, as he saw the others looking ahead to better times and the fulfillment of their hopes, and he knew he could have no equal share in their happiness. While he helped John and Will in the villages, he silently brooded over what he should do.

_Marian is lost to me._ _I lost her to Robin. But she was always his. I couldn't have her. She never loved me, and she never belonged to me. And Meg? Dear, sweet Meg. If things were different, I would have married her by now, and if I couldn't be happy, I could learn to be satisfied. She deserves better than me, but at least I know she would have loved me back. And maybe that's not such a bad thing after all..._

_Things are not different, though, and there's no point in pretending that they are. What's done is done. I can't undo the past, no matter how I much I regret my course. In the eyes of the law I am a criminal, a murderer, a traitor to the king. No amount of self-sacrificing actions at the siege, or kind deeds toward the people I once abused, no, not even helping Robin bring Vaisey to justice, can change that, or wipe it away. _

_I've escaped detection so far,_ _but it's only a matter of time before I'm spotted by one of the king's men, or have my name brought up in conversation in the king's presence. And when that happens…._

In the end, Guy knew there was only one thing to be done.


	28. Chapter 28 Everything We Do is a Choice

"EVERYTHING WE DO IS A CHOICE"

Robin entered the Great Hall at Nottingham Castle one afternoon, almost two weeks after the siege, and looked about for Marian. He soon found her. She had a basket of clean bandages under one arm, and one of bedsheets under the other.

"How are they doing?" he asked, as he glanced over at the makeshift beds and their occupants lined up along one wall. "Any of these men ready to go home yet?"

"Quite a few of them," Marian replied as she set down the baskets with a tired sigh. "Most of them, actually, thank goodness. Matilda and I, and Tuck, had a discussion this morning about which ones can go home to finish recovering. There are a few who need more care. We're going to transfer them into the inn for now, so that Sir William can move into the castle."

"Quite a nice fellow, our new Sheriff. I've just come from him and King Richard. He told me that one of his first projects will be to overhaul the dungeon. He took a tour of the place yesterday and was horrified by what he saw."

"If it were up to me, I'd wall up the entrance of that place permanently."

"I agree with you. I wouldn't wish a stay in there on anyone, except maybe Prince John."

"What will Richard do with him, I wonder?"

"He's headed back to London within the next few days, to remind his brother in no uncertain terms of who runs this country, or so he tells me. What I wouldn't give to see that little family row!"

"Well, at least Vaisey is no more, thanks to you and Guy."

"Have you seen Guy today?"

"Now that you mention it, no, I haven't."

"Is Meg still here? Maybe she's seen him."

"I don't think so. She was with me until noon. She left a while ago and went home. She promised her father she'd spend the afternoon with him. Robin, she really is a dear. She's been such a help, to everyone."

"She reminds me of you."

"It's amazing how she and I share so much. You gained a brother in Archer, and I feel like she's the little sister I never had. Did you know she lost her mother at the same age as I lost mine? She's no spoiled rich man's daughter any more than I was. She's had to grow up fast."

"Is it true that she's going back to live with her father for now?"

"From what she tells me, her father is quite helpless. He was used to her taking charge of things around their house, especially when he was away on business, and he's feeling lost without her."

Robin laughed. "I'm not surprised. She is a take-charge kind of girl, isn't she? She's sure taken a firm hold on Guy and shown him what's what. I think he likes it, too."

"Meg is worried about him. She said he's been very quiet the last couple of days. I'm sure he's grieving for his sister, but she's convinced that something more is bothering him."

"He's been working hard. Too hard, John tells me, and he's not recovered from his injuries yet. He must be hurting. I know I am, and he got hurt worse than me. As for Guy being quiet, well, he generally is anyway, except when he's hollering at someone."

"True. But, things are so uncertain for him. What's going to happen to him, Robin? Are you as concerned as I am?"

Robin's smile faded. "I didn't want to worry you, Marian, but right now I am a little concerned. Guy was with Will and John this morning. He stayed behind at Locksley Manor to check in on Allan. They went on to Clun. They thought he was going to join up with them this afternoon, but I just saw them, and they said he never showed up."

"Robin—you don't suppose the king's men—"

"I thought of that. I'm going to ride back to Locksley now and see what I can find out. I thought I'd check back here first, just in case he came to see Meg. But he hasn't been here?"

"If he was, I never saw him. Perhaps you should stop at Meg's father's house first, just in case he went there to see her."

"Good idea. Can you come with me?"

"Oh, I wish I could, but I've got so much to do yet. I'm sorry."

"That's okay. But you need a break. You're going to wear yourself out."

"I'll be okay. I'll finish up here as soon as I can. Don't forget, we're all getting together for supper tonight at the manor. Meg's coming, too."

"I'll remind Guy, if I can find him. I'm sorry, love, I know I'm worrying for nothing. He's probably still at Locksley, visiting with Allan. Or crashed into bed, most likely. I won't blame him if he decides to take the afternoon off to get some rest."

"I'm sure he's fine. Oh, I just remembered, Djaq told me today that she and Will are moving back into his father's house, as soon as it can be repaired and made livable again."

"John and Much have been offered a place to stay right in Locksley village, too, with Tom and Rose. I'm glad of it, Marian. Our manor is beginning to get a bit too crowded, with Allan there, and Archer and Guy. I've been thinking that we might have to rename it the 'Locksley Inn', and put out a sign, 'cozy accommodations for wayward and homeless single men'. So much for our privacy!"

"We've had so little privacy since we've been married, I won't know what to do when we finally have our house to ourselves."

He kissed her, long and lingeringly. "I can think of something," he whispered.

"Robin, stop!" she laughed as she pushed him away. "Go find Guy, and let me finish up here."

He grinned at her. "I'm headed back to Locksley. Come home as soon as you can."

"I will. I'm ready for a nice meal and a quiet evening."

"So am I."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Marian returned to the manor rather later than she had planned. Robin met her at the door, and she greeted him cheerfully as she came inside.

"I'm sorry to be so late. Is supper over with? I hope you left me something to eat, I'm very hungry!"

The first thing she noticed as she entered the house was the silence. She stepped into the lamplight inside the dining hall. No one was there. There were no plates of food on the table, no guests seated in the chairs. She looked at Robin, and knew something was terribly wrong the moment she saw her husband's face.

"Robin, where is everyone? What is it? Is it Allan? Is he worse?"

"No."

"What, then?"

Robin handed her a folded letter.

"What is this?"

"I found it on the table when I got here. It's from Guy. Read it."

It was addressed to all of them, in Guy's bold, flowing script. Marian read it aloud.

"_I am writing this in haste, and with much regret for any pain it may cause, but I must do this. I know at least some of you will understand. I did what I could to help the people of Nottingham, but you know all too well where I stand with King Richard. I cannot, and do not, rightfully expect any mercy or forgiveness from him. I know, Robin, that you and Archer would help me escape to France, and I will always love you both for it, but I cannot keep running away. I don't want to spend the rest of my life hiding and looking over my shoulder, wondering when justice is going to catch up with me. _

_I've been a coward for too long. I don't want to be one anymore. I'm turning myself in. Don't try to stop me or interfere. I've thought long and hard on this, and I know, for once in my life, that I'm doing what's right, even if, as I suspect, you won't agree. Please know that I will think of you all, with love and gratitude in my heart for the friendship you gave me, very undeserved as it was. Darling Meg, please try to understand. I'm sorry to hurt you. I love you, more than I can ever say, but I must do this. You deserve far better than me. _

_I'm going now, as soon as I finish this letter, before I second-guess myself or lose my nerve. I expect there will be a trial. I know the outcome, because I have no intention of defending myself, but perhaps in the end God will be more forgiving than my fellow men, and I'll finally find peace." _

Marian dropped the letter. "Oh, Robin, no!"

"Archer and I tried to stop him, but we were too late. He's already in custody."

Robin's head sank down into his hands. When he looked up at Marian again, there were tears in his eyes. She went to him, and they held each other in their mutual grief.

"I don't know whether I love him for what he did, or I want to kill him myself!" said Robin in a choked voice.

"And to think, he calls himself a coward!"

"A coward! What he did, Marian, to turn himself in willingly to face justice, that took more courage than I'll ever have."

Marian did not agree with that, as she knew very well just how brave Robin was, but she simply asked, "Will there be a trial?"

"I would imagine so," Robin replied. "I just learned from King Richard's secretary that Guy has already given a full account, a very full account, he told me, of his actions. It's all down in writing, signed and sealed."

"Is there no hope at all? Perhaps the king—"

"Marian, Guy worked for Vaisey. He was one of the Black Knights. He tried to assassinate the king. That's high treason. It's an automatic death sentence."

"Do you think Guy knew that?"

"Of course he did."

"Where is he now?"

"In the castle prison, under heavy guard."

"Back in that awful place! Robin, what are we going to do?"

"I don't know. Can't very well break him out of there, not with so many guards."

"What did he mean, about escaping to France?"

"Archer and I had a long talk with him yesterday. We offered to help him get to France, or anywhere else he might want to go."

"Into exile, you mean?"

Robin nodded. "I couldn't see any other way for him."

"What did he say?"

"He thanked us both, and said he'd think about it. I told him that King Richard and his troops probably wouldn't be in Nottingham for more than another few days. If he stayed out of their sight, once they were gone we could sit down and plan what to do next. I even thought of telling him to lay low at the camp until they were gone, just to be sure he wasn't seen. I never once considered that he might turn himself in. He never said a word, or even hinted."

"Do the others know what's happened? Does Meg know?"

"Yes, they were all here a short time ago. Allan told me Guy came to see him early this afternoon. He said he seemed quite anxious and preoccupied. Now we know why."

"Is someone with Allan now?"

"Matilda's upstairs with him. She's going to stay tonight to look after him. She saw Guy's letter on the table, but she didn't open it because it was addressed to us. By the time I got here and found it, it was too late. So much for our supper and quiet evening at home, Marian. The lads have gone to see if they can find out anything more. I stayed to wait for you."

"Guy gave you no hint of his intentions?"

"None, at least none that I saw."

The front door opened, and the rest of the gang, and Meg, entered the house. Little John had his arms around Meg. She was making a valiant effort not to cry. All of the gang looked sad and troubled.

"Any more news?" Robin asked them.

"Well, they're not wasting any time," answered Much. "We learned that there won't be a trial after all. Gisborne asked that there only be a hearing before the king, and King Richard agreed. It will happen tomorrow."

"So soon?" Marian looked at Robin.

"Won't be much to tell," Robin muttered. "Guy's already confessed to everything, and there will be at least some people willing to condemn him in spite of what he did during the siege. Probably they'll get to the sentencing pretty quickly."

"No trial? What does that mean?" asked John. "A hearing?"

"It means," answered Robin, "that Guy has waived his right to a lawyer, and a trial by a jury. He has, for all intents and purposes, thrown himself on the mercy of the king."

"Is that good or bad?" asked Djaq.

"I wish I knew. But, it does mean that the king will ultimately decide his fate, and there will be no chance for appeal if the sentence is death."

Robin looked over at Meg, and when he saw her face, instantly regretted that he'd used the word "death" in front of her.

"So, what's the plan? Do we have one? A jailbreak?" asked John. "I take it we are going to do something, right?"

"Yes, but breaking him out is too risky. Not to mention the very deep trouble we'd all be in if we did."

Marian picked up and reread the letter.

"Robin, you may not agree with me, but—I think we should respect Guy's wishes and let him go through with this."

"If we do nothing, he'll die!"

"I don't mean do nothing. We should be there to support him and speak in his defense, yes. But, let him face this. I'm only thinking of what he wants. He doesn't want to run away from it. If you try to rescue him, my heart tells me he won't like you for it. I know Guy at least as well as any of you. If he runs away now, he might live, but he'll never be able to hold his head up again. Don't do that to him. Let him keep what little self-respect he has left."

"I agree with Marian," said Robin, after a long, thoughtful pause. "She's right. But, we have to do something, gang. Guy is one of us now. And he's Archer's brother, and mine. And Meg—"

Meg looked up at him with a plea in her eyes. "Meg, I promise you, we're going to do everything we can."

"I know, Robin. But it's so hard. They won't even let me see him."

She started to cry. John and Marian embraced her.

"The hearing starts early tomorrow," Robin continued. "That doesn't give me much time. I'm going to request an audience with the king, right now, if he'll see me. Perhaps if I can talk with him, it might make a difference. I'll go alone for now and see what happens. The rest of you, stay here until I get back."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I understand, Robin," said King Richard. The two men sat down and faced each other across the table in the Great Hall.

"You've learned to care about him. And I have been informed of his support of you and your men in the defense of Nottingham. But, these things do not wipe away the reality of his crimes. I've read his confession in full. His attempts on my life are enough to merit death. But these other acts—working for Sheriff Vaisey, killing for him. There's no escaping the fact that Gisborne is a criminal of the worst kind."

"Sire, I am well aware of Gisborne's past. I've been the recipient of his villainy more times than I care to recall."

"Yet, you say he is like a brother to you?"

"More than that now. A friend closer than a brother. But we are brothers in a way, or would have been. And we share a brother, in fact. Archer."

"Yes, I met Archer. He's a fine lad. But, Gisborne is his brother, too? I did not know this."

"It's a very long story, but yes. I know what you think of Gisborne, but, sire, he's family to me now. Whatever he was, whatever he's done in the past, he's not the same man anymore. I'd stake my life on it. He's changed."

"Because he helped you defend Nottingham?"

"He did more than help me. I could not have done it without him. The people of Nottingham needed his strength and his courage, and he delivered. People label me a hero, but Guy was as much of a hero as anyone that day."

Robin told him how Guy had single-handedly held the gates against the invading army to give the other men a chance to escape.

"He saved many lives, mine included. We were greatly outnumbered. If he hadn't done what he did, if the troops had broken through before the defenders made it to the safety of the castle, it would have been a massacre. He stood his ground, even though he was injured, and stayed there until we were all inside. He held that gate alone, with no thought to his own life. Sire, that was not the act of a coward."

"I was told this," said Richard, "but I thought there must be some mistake. Gisborne said nothing of it."

"I'm not surprised. Just when I need him to brag about his exploits, when it might do him some good, he won't. I don't suppose he told you that he also joined with me in killing Vaisey."

"He helped you kill Vaisey? No, he didn't say. I thought they were partners!"

"They were, for many years. But things changed after the mission to Acre."

He gave Richard a brief summary of events, including Guy's first, and failed, attempt to kill Vaisey, Isabella's betrayal, his brief partnership with Prince John, and its subsequent explosive ending, his cruel imprisonment and near execution, the rescue of Meg, and his decision to join the outlaws and help bring down Vaisey.

"Sire, Guy was devastated by what Vaisey did to Marian. He thought she was dead. He blamed me for it at first. I tried to kill him, he nearly killed me instead. For almost a year we fought each other. But the day he turned on Prince John, I saw a change in him. When I look back on it, I realize it was the beginning of our friendship, strange as that sounds. After my father came to me, and told me the whole story of our pasts, and the truth about the injustices that Guy suffered, I knew I could not hate him anymore. That's why we saved him from Isabella, and convinced him to join our cause."

"What about the injustices he has perpetrated on others, Robin?"

"I truly believe he is sorry for them."

Richard sighed and shook his head. "You're painting a glowing picture of this man, but that's not what I see here in this signed confession."

He handed the paper to Robin. Robin read it, and groaned inwardly. It certainly was a full and thorough admission of guilt.

_If I didn't know the man personally,_ he thought, _and had only this confession to go by, I might view him the same as I know King Richard sees him, and as I once saw him—a black-hearted, murderous traitor. If I can just make him understand that's not who Guy is anymore. _

"Sire, permit me to share with you the letter he wrote to us just before he turned himself in."

Robin retrieved the letter from his pocket and gave it to Richard. The king read it.

Robin sensed that Richard was not unmoved by what he read. The man held on to the letter for some time, reading it over again.

"That's who he really is," said Robin. "That's the man I've come to know, and call my friend and brother, not the man he once was."

Richard handed the letter back to Robin.

"I understand, Robin, and I sympathize. But there must be a reckoning. There must be justice. Gisborne will have to answer for his crimes, and face the consequences."

"Sire, I'm asking for mercy for him. I know I have no right to—"

Richard smiled. "You have every right, Robin. I owe you and Marian my life. She nearly died defending me. And I have not forgotten how I accused you unjustly and left you in the desert to die. No, you have every right to ask a favour of me. Is that what you're doing now?"

"Yes, sire, I am. I'm asking for Guy's life to be spared."

"Robin, I will have the final say in what his fate will be. I have heard you, and your words do matter to me. I will consider them. That's all I can promise you."

Robin bowed. "Thank you, your Majesty. Thank you for letting me speak in his defense. Will it be permitted at the hearing as well? There are others, I know, who would speak for him."

"In the interests of fairness, yes, I will allow it. And Gisborne will be given his chance to speak."

"I'm not sure he will. He says he won't defend himself."

"He may change his mind."

"Sire," Robin continued, "may I ask permission to see him?"

"You're not planning some daring rescue, are you?"

Robin smiled. "No. I would just like to talk with him if I may. The guards will be on the alert, I'm sure."

"It goes against my better judgment, but I will permit you to see him. Only you, however. And I will consider what you have told me."

"Thank you, sire." Robin bowed and left, taking with him the king's order allowing him into the prison.

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He arrived, and was shown to Guy's cell by the guards. Guy was sitting on a wooden bench, his ankles and wrists shackled. He looked up from staring at the floor as the guard unlocked the door and let Robin in.

"Special permission from the king himself to see you," he told Guy by way of greeting. "Only me, and I can't try to break you out."

"You could campaign to have me moved to another cell," said Guy, his face wearing the familiar smirk. "Wouldn't you know, they put me in the same cell I spent a month in when Isabella threw me in here. I know every stone in this wall, every crack…."

He smiled and shrugged. "At least I got clean straw on the floor this time."

Then he grew serious. "Robin, I told you not to interfere."

"Yes, I know. I can't break you out of here, much as I'd like to. But did you really expect me to do nothing? Guy, why didn't you let us help you? We would have helped you escape to wherever you wanted to go."

"You got my letter, didn't you? It's all in there."

Robin sat beside him. "Yes, I got it. The whole gang knows."

"Meg?"

"Yes. She tried to come to see you, but she wasn't allowed."

"It's just as well. I don't want her to see me in here again."

"She'll see you tomorrow. We all will, at the hearing. We were told you asked not to have a trial, or a lawyer to defend you. Why?"

"Robin, there's no point. Everyone knows I'm guilty."

"So, you're willing to put yourself in the hands of the king, and let him make the decision?"

"I know what the outcome will be, but I'm not going to sit through a travesty of a trial. It's a pointless waste of time."

"I understand. We'll all be there, just the same."

"Robin, I don't want you to interfere."

"Tough, too bad. I already have. I've just come from King Richard. We had a nice little chat about you."

"I can imagine."

"Guy, listen to me. I couldn't stop you from turning yourself in, but I'll be damned if I'm going to stand on the sidelines tomorrow and watch you face that den of lions all alone! The rest of the gang agrees. And Meg, well, nothing's going to stop her from speaking her mind when she gets her chance."

"No, Meg never shies away from saying what she thinks. I know that all too well."

He smiled at the recollection of their first meeting. "I was in this very cell, and she was in the other. I called her a stupid girl, and she told me to go to hell. I couldn't do anything else but fall in love with her after that."

He looked down. "Now I wish I hadn't…."

"You should have let us help you—"

"No."

"But why?"

"Because, I want to go through with this."

Robin did not mince words. "They'll kill you."

"If that's what has to happen, then so be it."

"You don't mean that."

"I don't want to die, Robin, no more than any man. But I also don't want to spend what's left of my life running away from what I've done. I served under Vaisey, for years. I was one of the Black Knights. I tried to kill the king. I may be sorry for those things now, and I am, but it doesn't wipe them away. I failed to kill Vaisey when Marian begged me to, and it almost cost her life. And because I failed to kill him the next time, too, more people suffered and died."

"Guy, don't take all that on yourself."

"Why not? It's true, isn't it?"

Both men were silent for a moment. Then Guy spoke again.

"Robin, I have to say some things to you while I still can, in case I don't get another chance. It's about you, and Marian. You know that I've always been jealous of you, ever since we were children. You had everything I wanted, including Marian. But I've watched you and Marian these past few weeks, and I realize that I was wrong, about a lot of things, but especially about you. I should never have tried to take Marian from you. She was always yours, I see that now. You belong with each other. She didn't want me, she wanted you. And she made a good choice. She got the better man."

Robin looked into his eyes, and saw reflected in them what he had long refused to believe was true.

"You really loved her, didn't you?" he said gently. It was more an acknowledgment than a question.

"I'm a man, too, no different than you," Guy answered him. "Yes, I loved her, with all my heart, just as much as you do. I would have died for her."

He shook his head. "But any chance I might have had to win her, I ruined myself, years ago, by working for Vaisey."

"She tried to get you away from him."

"I know, and I wish now that I had listened to her. I convinced myself that if I worked for him I could get what I wanted. He deceived me, and I believed him. It was all a lie. You were more free as an outlaw than I ever was."

He turned and smiled at Robin. "Funny thing is, I don't even hate you for it anymore. I'm happy for you and Marian both. The love you share doesn't come along every day. And you and Marian, and the others, you've got a chance now. You have a future ahead of you. That's another reason I turned myself in."

"What do you mean?"

"I've been a selfish coward all my life, Robin. I've blamed everyone but myself for the things I've done. I've lived in shame, but I don't want to go on that way. If I must die for what I've done, then at least I want to die at peace, knowing I finally did what was right. You're fond of saying everything we do is a choice. Well, I made my choices in life, and I ruined my life as a result. There's nothing left of it worth saving. But if you hide me or help me escape, you're helping a traitor to the king. I can't let you do that, not now. I'd be selfish all over again if I let you risk your future helping me."

"We would do it willingly, Guy."

"I know, and I love all of you for it. But I can't let you throw away your lives for me."

"What about Meg? She loves you."

Guy was silent for a moment before he answered Robin.

"I didn't think I could ever love another woman after Marian, but if things were different, I would marry Meg. I thought about your offer, about going into exile, and asking her to come with me. Now I realize I can't do that to her. If I loved her less, I could. But to ask her to leave everyone and everything she knows, and run away with me to spend her life in hiding? What can I give her? I have nothing. In the end, she would hate me for it. She needs her own home, a family."

He shook his head. "No, Robin, it's better this way. She's still very young. She will forget me in time. She'll meet a man worthy of her, and live a long and happy life with him, and she'll have her children and grandchildren around her. I can't give her that life. All I can bring her is sorrow."

Robin stared down at the floor. He knew Guy was right, but it didn't make it any less painful to hear him say it.

_Just a few months ago_, thought Robin, _if he had told me_ _the same things, I'd have said 'Well, what did you expect? Of course you lost Marian! What did you think, that she would love a man who threatened her, who hit her ailing father, who burned her house down, who locked people up and had them tortured? Someone who would stoop so low as to work for a man as evil as Vaisey?' _

_Yes, I'd have said all those things and more. I'd have told him that however he meets his end, it was well deserved. And yet now—_

He looked at Guy. _I don't want to say any of those things to him now, because this isn't the same man,_ he thought. _The_ _rotten bastard who did those things is gone. This is the better man that Marian once knew and cared about, the side of him she told me was there, just under the surface. The man he was before Vaisey ruined him. Marian was right. I should have made a friend of Guy when I first came back to Locksley. I should have helped him break free of the Sheriff. Things might have turned out so differently, for all of us. But now it's too late...  
_

He struggled to find words of comfort, for himself and for Guy all the while aware of how little real hope there was for him.

"Don't give up, even if it seems hopeless right now," he said. "The king has promised to consider my words. He's a hard man. As the king, he's had to be. But he's not cruel. And Meg and I won't be the only ones speaking up for you. There are others who saw your actions at the siege. They will testify in your behalf as well."

"For every person speaking in my behalf, there will be twenty more eager to condemn me."

"Not necessarily. You might be surprised."

"I wish I shared your optimism. But I thank you for it, and for coming to see me."

"Time's up!" announced the guard, opening the door to let Robin out. Robin had just enough time to give Guy a quick embrace around his shoulders.

"I won't stop fighting for you, you have my word. This is all our fight, remember? To whatever end."

He moved to the door of the cell. Guy looked up at him, and Robin saw the glint of tears on his strong face.

"You're the truest friend I've ever had, Robin. I-I wish now that we had always been friends."

"So do I," Robin said quietly. "Friends and brothers, as we were meant to be."

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"Marian, are you still awake? I have to ask you something, and I need an honest answer."

Marian rolled over to face Robin, and pillowed her head against his chest.

"Of course. Aren't I always honest with you?"

"We've never talked about this, have we? We've been avoiding the subject, but, I need to know. You and Guy, you cared about each other once, didn't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"He loved you. He told me that he loved you."

"Why are you asking me this?"

"Did you love him?"

"Robin—"

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked you that."

She made no reply for a time. Then she answered him.

"When you were away in the Crusades, I met Guy, and he courted me for almost two years."

"He was still courting you when I got back, from what I could see, but you didn't seem to be too happy about it."

"I wasn't. He was working for Vaisey."

"But before that?"

"Do you mean, was I willing to be courted by him? I won't lie to you. Yes, we cared about each other, very much. He loved me, and I—I loved him, too, for a while, when I first knew him. He was different then, more like he is now, before Vaisey changed him."

"Do you still love him, Marian?"

"Now, what kind of a question is that? Who am I with right now?"

"You almost married him three years ago."

"Yes, and you know the reasons why. But I didn't, did I? I married you!"

"All right, don't get angry!"

"I'm not angry. I just don't know why you're asking me these things now, with Guy about to face the king tomorrow. I'm your wife. I had a chance to marry Guy, and I said no. I would still say no."

"Meg would marry him."

"I'm sure she would. But I'm afraid that no one will be marrying Guy. Am I wrong?"

"Well, it's not looking good. I'm trying to remain hopeful, but I'll admit it's hard."

"Is there any hope at all?"

"Realistically? Not much."

They both fell silent. It was some time before Marian spoke again.

"Robin, he chose to turn himself in. He didn't wait to be caught. No one forced him to. He made that decision on his own. Guy did what was right, when you think about it. The important thing is that we all be there to support him. That's all we can do for him now, but I'm sure it will mean the world to him to see us there."

"Yes. We'll be there for him."

Her words were practical, sensible. But he lay awake, with a heavy heart and a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Guy, his onetime hated enemy, now his friend and brother, faced execution, and there was little he could do to stop it.

_Guy has finally changed his ways,_ he thought, _and he's listening to and acting on his conscience. He's tried so hard these last few months to make amends for his past, to us, and to the people of Nottingham. And now, just when he's turned a corner and shown us a glimpse of the man he could be, he's going to die. _

Marian was not as calm and resigned as she sounded, and Robin sensed it. Wordlessly, he pulled her into his arms and held her close. Her restraint gave way then. She buried her face against his shoulder, and cried anguished tears of pity for the doomed man locked up alone in the prison cell in Nottingham's dungeon. The man she had once loved, who, in his hard-fought battle with himself to be the better man she had always believed he could be, would soon pay the price of that struggle with his life.


	29. Chapter 29  Proud to Call Him My Friend

**Author's Note:** Hello, readers! Just a quick note on the following chapter. In keeping with the spirit of my story thus far, which is much more about fantasy than historical accuracy or a true reflection of medieval times and customs, Guy's "trial" is related here in a very simple and brief fashion. It is not likely to resemble in any way how real trials were conducted in those days. My apologies in advance to the history buffs for my admittedly unsophisticated tale, but I didn't do my research on this one! I'll leave that to more ambitious writers of historical fiction!

A note to EliraLupa: Sorry I wasn't able to send you a PM, so I'll thank you here, as I've done before with another reviewer. I'm so glad to hear that you are enjoying the story, and I appreciate your review very much!**  
**

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"I AM PROUD TO CALL HIM MY FRIEND"

Robin, Marian, and the rest of the gang gathered at Locksley Manor early the next morning. Breakfast was a hurried and silent affair. After the meal, they departed, carrying Allan's best wishes for Guy with them, and his regrets that he could not be there personally to speak in his friend's behalf.

Though he did not voice it to the others, Allan knew that, in all likelihood, he would never see Guy alive again. All of Matilda's well-meaning words of comfort could not touch the painful knot of sadness deep in his heart as he watched them ride away toward Nottingham.

On the way, they stopped to pick up Meg. She appeared to have gotten as little sleep as the rest of them, and, wrapped in her own grief, was unnaturally quiet on the ride to the castle.

Robin noticed upon arriving that only a small number of people were being allowed inside the Great Hall. He was relieved that King Richard had seen fit to limit the size of the gathering, so that Gisborne's hearing would not degenerate into a noisy circus of gawkers. As they entered the hall, Ralf DeBracy spotted them, greeted Robin, and joined them in the row of seats set up for the audience.

The king sat at the long table at one end of the cavernous room, surrounded on either side by his panel of advisors. Tuck was among them. Robin was glad that at least one of the men who would advise the king, and help decide Guy's fate, was someone who understood and sympathized with him.

At the appointed hour, the hearing was called to order. The audience quieted down, and King Richard ordered Gisborne to be brought out. Two guards led him forward to stand before the king. Robin was irritated to see him still shackled hand and foot.

_What do they think he's going to do—try to escape, or harm the king?_ he thought. _Guy saved the lives of most of the men here! So why this unnecessary precaution? Couldn't they afford him a little dignity and let him stand unchained? _

He looked closely at Guy. The man's face was pale and tired, but composed. He glanced briefly in the direction of the gang. Robin smiled encouragement, but Guy had already looked away, and did not see him.

The king's spokesman then read Guy's confession. Robin cringed as he listened, and wished for the hundredth time that Guy had not been quite so thorough in his admission of guilt. He saw many members of the counsel and the audience look at one another and shake their heads. Guy stood motionless during the reading, with bowed head.

Several people were then called forward, one at a time, to verify the truthfulness of the accusations against him. Most of them Robin recognized—peasants from the villages, townspeople from Nottingham. Some appeared quite eager to speak against Gisborne, others were more reluctant participants. For over an hour, they gave their damning testimony before the king and his counselors. True to his intent to put up no defense, Guy said not a word throughout the proceedings.

King Richard ordered a recess so that he and his counsel could discuss what they had heard thus far. They retired to a private room off the main hall. Guy was allowed to sit down, and given something to drink, but when Robin went over and attempted to speak with him, the guards turned him away. He returned to the others with a solemn face.

"Well, that couldn't have gone any worse," remarked John sourly. "If Gisborne wanted to bury himself, he's certainly done a good job of it."

"He confessed to things I'd completely forgotten he'd done," added Will.

"What will happen now?" asked Djaq.

"King Richard will ask if anyone wishes to speak for Guy. I've had a chance already, but I'll say more if I can," answered Robin.

"Do you think Gisborne will say anything in his own defense?" asked Much.

"I doubt it."

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King Richard and his advisors returned to the Great Hall an hour later, and sat back down at the table. Never an expressive man at any time, his face was difficult to read. Robin, as well as he knew him, still could make nothing of that stern countenance. The king motioned for his spokesman to continue.

"His Majesty King Richard, and the honourable members of his counsel, have heard the evidence presented against Guy of Gisborne. This evidence has consisted of his own personal and freely given confession as well as the corroborating evidence given by eyewitnesses of his crimes against the people of Nottingham."

"Because Guy of Gisborne has declined to be defended by a lawyer, and has stated his intention not to defend himself against the charges laid on him, at this time the king and his counselors would be pleased to give audience to anyone who wishes to speak in his behalf. If you so desire, please raise your hand, and you will be called forward."

The gang waited to see if anyone else wanted to be first. Several men, guards from the castle and a couple of peasants from Locksley, put their hands up timidly. Robin smiled at Marian.

"They were at the gates with us," he told her, "when Guy held off the army. This could help his case."

The men, seven in all, got up together to stand before the king. None of them were eloquent, but they expressed themselves from their hearts. Between them all, they told the entire story of the storming of the gates.

"Sire," they said, "he held off the whole of Prince John's army." "I can't believe he wasn't killed." "He never hesitated." "We thought we were all dead, until he stepped in, and gave us a chance to get to safety." "I owe him my life."

Encouraged by the first group of men, several others, including Archer, then came up and gave their testimony as to his reformed character as well.

From Guy's plea for Meg's life at their near execution, to joining up with Robin Hood's gang, his part in the overthrow of Isabella, his actions at the siege, and his partnership with Robin in accomplishing the death of Sheriff Vaisey, the story was told in full. This last part, the death of Vaisey at Robin and Guy's hands, was related by Archer, and caused quite a stir amongst the listeners who had not yet heard the story.

Guy remained silent while the men praised his actions, but his eyes plainly bespoke his astonishment at finding friends amongst the people he had wronged for so long.

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Ralf was called up next. He bowed to the king, and stepped forward, red-faced and anxious-eyed when he saw the sea of faces turn toward him.

"State your name," said the king's spokesman, "and your relationship to the accused."

"Sire," he said, "My name is Ralf DeBracy. I was one of the castle guards, and served under the authority of Guy of Gisborne."

"You wish to speak in his defense."

"Yes, your Majesty. I hesitate to speak in front of all these people, so I ask for your patience, please. Others here have called me a hero for helping to lead the coup against Lady Isabella. I was only doing my duty, sire. But Sir Guy is the one on trial here, and I wish to speak in his behalf, for whatever value it may have in this case."

King Richard nodded assent, pleased with the humble manner of the young guard. He and his counselors gave Ralf their attention.

"Sire, I began working at the castle about two years ago, and I was put under the direction of Guy of Gisborne. Right from the start the other guards warned me to do as I was told, not talk back, and not question any orders. By the time I finally met the man personally, I was, quite honestly, scared to death of him!"

This caused a few knowing smiles and chuckles from the audience.

"One day I was sent off alone with him on an assignment. I was too scared to speak a word. To my surprise, he asked me my name, and who my family was. I don't know what made me say it, but I told him I liked to read. I'll never forget how he smiled then. I'd never seen him smile. Frankly, I didn't think he could smile."

"Then he said to me that he liked to read, too, when he got the chance. Pretty soon he was asking me what books I had read. I was so surprised, but I told myself he was probably just bored with the long ride."

"But a few days later, he came up to me again, and asked me about a book I had been reading. After that we had a number of conversations. The next thing I knew, he was offering to loan me some of his books, knowing I didn't have the money to buy any myself. I wanted to say no. I felt it would be too much of an imposition on him. But he insisted, and seemed pleased to have me accept."

"Sire, let me say that I never presumed upon the relationship. I knew better. Gisborne was my lord, and the one I answered to. There was always a reserve in our talks. I didn't want to cross any lines with him, and neither did he. I got the sense that his friendliness toward me could change in a heartbeat if I took any liberties of manner or showed any disrespect toward him. With him it was always 'yes, sir, no, sir'. I was low in the ranks of the guards. I never forgot who he was, and who I was in relation to him."

"But as I got better acquainted with him, sire, I started thinking about what his life was like. All of us at the castle saw how Sheriff Vaisey treated him. We always knew when Vaisey had been ragging on Gisborne worse than usual, because he would often take it out on us in turn. But more than a few of us felt sorry for him."

"I got to thinking—who does he talk to? He didn't appear to have any friends. Again, I knew better than to treat him as an equal. But I started to wonder if he sought me out just to have someone to talk to in a way that wasn't hostile."

"After Sheriff Vaisey disappeared and was believed dead, Gisborne took over Nottingham. We thought he was to be the new Sheriff. I didn't see him much after that, and our conversations ceased. Then everything went wrong between him and Prince John and Lady Isabella. We heard he had been put in the dungeon. I didn't see him again until the day he was to be executed. Three of my fellow guards tried to speak in Gisborne's behalf, and Lady Isabella had them locked up. One of them was tortured for daring to question her."

"I was there when Gisborne was taken out to be beheaded. I felt very badly about it, remembering our talks. I still had a couple of his books in my possession. But I didn't dare speak up lest I end up in the dungeon, or worse. We all saw what happened to Miss Meg when she tried to break him out of prison. And I was married then, with a child soon to be born. I had to think of them."

"Everyone here knows the rest. Robin Hood and his men stopped the execution and rescued Gisborne and Meg Bennett. I was torn between my relief to see him escape, and my duty as a guard."

"In the end, I chased after Gisborne, and fought with Little John as he and Allan a Dale attempted to get Gisborne out of Nottingham. I lost the fight to Sir Guy. I thought I was a dead man. But, he let me live, and I can't thank him enough. Because of him, I've had the chance to be a father to my son. When he and Robin planned the coup against Isabella, and asked me to organize the castle guards, I was very happy to assist."

"Others have already testified as to Gisborne's courage at the siege. I second their statements. None of us who saw him would disagree. But, I wanted to speak of my own relationship with him, because it is a side of the man that, I think, few people have seen. Because we shared a common interest, I had opportunity to see that side of him. I agree with others here—he's a changed man, your Majesty, and I feel that he deserves a second chance."

Ralf bowed to the king again, and stepped down. He walked back to sit beside Robin. Guy turned to them, and gave them both a nod.

"Thank you, Ralf," whispered Robin.

"It wasn't much of a story."

"Yes, it was. Look at Guy. That's the closest he's come to a smile all day."

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Little John was next. John was a man of few and blunt words, but his story moved many in the audience and on the counsel.

"I hated Gisborne as much as anyone," he said. "He could go straight to hell for all I cared. If you'd told me a few months ago that I'd be here today defending him, I'd have laughed in your face. Well, not in your face, sire. But I've changed my mind about him, and here's why."

In a few terse words, John told the story of the improbable friendship that had sprung up between himself and Guy in the weeks they had spend together at the outlaw camp after Guy's rescue.

"Asking pardon of young Ralf here. I hold no grudge against him, 'cause the lad was just doing his job. But Gisborne saved my life that day. He had no reason to. He could've run away from Allan and I both and made his way out of Nottingham without our help. He chose to come with us, and he chose to join our gang and help us defend Nottingham. And he helped Robin rid us all of Vaisey. That's worth a lot in my mind. I agree with DeBracy, I think he should get a second chance."

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Meg's testimony before the king was as dramatic as Robin and the gang had expected. She had a decided flair for storytelling, and told the tale of her imprisonment with Guy, and the final hours leading up to their close brush with death, with such heartfelt passion that her audience was quite spellbound.

She drew a vivid picture for her listeners, until they could see themselves in the prison with them, as he shared his meager meal with her, defended her against the lascivious attentions of the guard, attempted to get them out of the castle to safety after she freed him, and, on that last night, when they believed they would die together the next day, poured out his heart to her, and held nothing back.

There was a dead silence in the room as she finished her story, but it was followed by the sound of weeping from some of the female spectators. Meg then faced the king, unashamedly confessed her love for Guy, and made her entreaty for his life. However theatrical her recital of the story, her tears for him were very real. No one, not even Richard, doubted the young woman's sincerity as she asked earnestly for pity for the man she loved.

Guy's attention was riveted on her throughout her story, but as she sat back down, his gaze dropped to the floor.

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Last of all, Robin and Marian stood up together.

"Your Majesty, members of the counsel, and good people assemblied here today," began Robin. "I am in full agreement with the testimony that has been given as to Guy of Gisborne's change of character, though, like my dear friend Little John, I can hardly believe I'm saying it, given our long and inglorious history together."

He gave a brief account of his dealings with Sheriff Vaisey and Gisborne, leading up to that terrible day in Acre.

"When we returned home to Locksley, I wanted only one thing—to kill Gisborne. As I could not do anything about Vaisey at the time, I took my anger out on Guy. I hated him as I'd never hated anyone else before, with the exception of Vaisey, of course. I saw him as a traitor to his king, a willing pawn of Sheriff Vaisey, a cruel bully who enjoyed hurting those weaker than himself."

"But I failed to kill him that day. He almost killed me instead. For months after that we tried to kill each other, and a few times we nearly succeeded."

"So, why am I now speaking in his defense? Because I've learned something important. Life is not always as black and white as I once thought, and people are not always what they seem at first glance, either. Marian tried to tell me that, years ago, about Guy. I found out she was right."

He told them the story of his encounter with Gisborne in the Great Hall after they had pushed Prince John into the well.

"I saw his other side then," said Robin. "That day, we understood each other. From there, we became friends, though not right away. Guy, as our beloved Meg told us, had yet to endure quite an ordeal in the dungeons of the castle, at his own sister's hands. And I still had much to learn, about the part I played myself in ruining Guy's life. I soon thereafter heard the true story, from a very unexpected source—the father I thought was long dead."

He related the story to his audience.

"Much has been said here about the injustices Gisborne inflicted on others. But, in truth, he has also suffered injustice, and I feel he was a victim of Vaisey as much as anyone else. I say this, not to minimize his wrongdoing, but to bring a sense of fairness and compassion to this hearing."

"Guy has freely admitted his own guilt, and, as we have all seen, has made no attempt to defend or justify himself. He called himself a coward in front of me. But in my opinion, what he has done, in turning himself in, and facing up to his wrongs, took real courage. I have only admiration for that kind of courage, and I am proud to call him my friend."

"Lady Marian and I stand in agreement here today in our belief that Guy of Gisborne is a changed man. He has worked very hard to make those changes. I've watched it firsthand, and I know the man that he is, and wants to be. He did not want me to interfere in this hearing, or speak for him. But I could not call myself his friend if I stood silent. As he will not speak for himself, I will ask for him."

"I make request before you for his life to be spared. I ask that he be granted a second chance, so that he might continue on the good and honourable and courageous course he is now on, and have a new opportunity to be a worthy citizen of Nottingham."

"I ask of you, your Majesty, and all you his advisors, to consider carefully what has been presented here today. We all stand before God, to be judged by Him, and we hope for mercy from that very God. Can we not show the same to a fellow human who has admitted his wrongs and wishes to make a clean start, and launch upon a better and more noble life and purpose?"

"I thank you all for your wise consideration of this case, and for your attention, to myself and all of us who wished to speak in Gisborne's defense. We are grateful for this privilege."

Robin and Marian bowed to the king, and went back to their seats. They looked toward Guy. This time, there was a smile on his face.

"Nice speech, Robin!" whispered Much. "If I were ever in this much trouble, I'd sure want you defending me!"

Archer reached across to take Robin's hand in a strong grasp. "For our brother," he said.

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There was a pause while the counselors held a conference amongst themselves, before the king's spokesman stood up and addressed Guy.

"Guy of Gisborne, you are being offered the opportunity one last time to speak in your own defense, before we decide upon your sentence. Do you wish to do so?" he asked.

Guy faced King Richard, bowed to him respectfully, and, with the same newfound strength of character that he had demonstrated at Nottingham's besieged gates, answered him.

"Your Majesty, I have no defense to make," he said simply. "I am guilty of the offenses that were read out against me. I cannot excuse or justify them. As for speaking in my defense, my friends here have done a far better job than I ever could, and I thank them for it, though I am certainly not deserving. For the rest, for the final judgment, I leave myself in your hands, sire."

There was a deep silence in the room, before the spokesman continued.

"In that case, his Majesty King Richard, and his counsel, will convene to discuss what has been presented here today. You will be taken back to the prison. When the king's decision has been finalized, you will be called back to hear your sentence."

Guy was led out. He turned and gave the gang a quick nod as he passed them, but another smile was beyond him.

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"What do we do now, stay here and wait? How long will they be?"

"I don't know, John. Here comes Tuck. Maybe he can tell us something. Tuck, how's it looking?"

"I can't tell you, Robin. I'm sworn to silence. However, the king has asked for your presence on the counsel."

"What does he want?"

"I can't tell you that, either."

"Is it good or bad as far as Guy is concerned?"

"I wish I could tell you. I just don't know."

"Okay, I'm coming with you. What about the rest of you?"

"Perhaps we can go to the inn," suggested Marian, "and wait for word there."

"Yes. I'll come and get you when the hearing begins again."

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Robin left with Tuck. Marian and the others, with Ralf as company, went to the inn near the castle. They ordered some food, as it was just past noon, but no one was very hungry, and they picked at the meal listlessly. Even Much had lost his appetite. Meg had stopped crying. On her face was the calmness of despair. Little John sat frowning and gnawing at his fist, Archer played absently with the untouched plate of food.

Marian broke the pall of silence that had descended on all of them.

"We did the best we could," she said. "Whatever the king's decision, we'll have to accept it."

"We can't appeal it?" asked Archer.

"No. I'm afraid Guy gave up that right."

"I wish Robin and I could have stopped him."

"I know, Archer. I do, too. But Guy did what he thought was best. He made the choice for himself. You know, I'm proud of him for it. He didn't run away, he faced up to what he did. If the worst happens, I'd rather remember him that way, wouldn't you?"

John nodded. "Aye, you're right, Marian. Come on, gang, let's not be so down in the mouth here. Let's be hopeful. Robin's in there with the king. And we've got Tuck on his side, too. It's not over yet."

He smiled kindly at Meg, and put his brawny arm comfortingly around her drooping shoulders.

Nearly two hours passed, with agonizing slowness, before Robin returned to them. He sat down at the tavern table, and rubbed his tired eyes.

"So, what news?" asked Will. "What did King Richard want from you?"

"He wanted to question me about Guy's inheritance that was lost. Turns out that King Richard knew Guy's father, Sir Rodger of Gisborne, and thought quite highly of him. The man served with honour under Richard's father. He wanted to know more of the story of why and how Guy lost the estate, and the relationship between him and myself and Archer. He was also interested in finding out how he got mixed up with Vaisey. I told him all I knew."

"So, what was the reaction?"

"Like Tuck, I wish I could tell you. He pressed me for details, but I'm not sure why, or if this is good news for Guy or not. I know King Richard quite well from my years of service in his private guard. But I'm sure Much will agree with me—he's not a man you want to trifle with. It got pretty tense in there at times. I was sent out before the final decision was discussed."

He stood up. "We should head back in. Marian, the king wants to speak with you, too."

"Me?"

"Yes, right away. I told him I'd send you in. He wants to hear your side of the story, from you. The sentencing is going to be announced soon. I'm glad they are getting to it all in one day. I don't think I could take another night like last night, and I'm sure Guy would rather know as soon as possible."

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The audience drifted back into the Great Hall and seated themselves. Marian came out of the private meeting room and rejoined Robin. King Richard then came out, with his counselors, and they arranged themselves at the table once again. Guy was brought back in, and seated. After a few minutes, the hearing was called to order. The murmur of voices died down, and the king's spokesman arose, with a document in his hand. He addressed Guy.

"Guy of Gisborne, stand and hear the king's judgment."

Guy stood up, flanked by two guards, and walked forward to stand before King Richard. He gave a quick glance at Robin and the others as he did so. Robin smiled in support. Guy nodded acknowlegement, lifted his head a bit higher, and squared his shoulders. His gaze lingered longest on Meg, and she smiled back at him through her tears.

"Guy of Gisborne," began the spokesman, "His Majesty King Richard, and his counsel, have heard your crimes against the people of Nottingham and its surrounding villages, your crimes against followers of King Richard, and your traitorous crimes against the king himself. To these offenses you have freely admitted your guilt, and have passed up your opportunity to defend yourself, or allow a lawyer present to defend you. In addition to your own freely given testimony, your crimes have also been testified to by a number of reliable witnesses, who confirmed the accuracy of your confession."

"Because of the serious and long-standing nature of your offenses against the king's subjects, and the appalling nature of your crimes against King Richard himself, it is the duty of this counsel to declare that you are worthy and fully deserving of death."

Guy stared down at the floor, his face ashen. Robin turned to his gang, and saw his own feelings of horror and dismay reflected in their faces. Meg sobbed aloud, and buried her head against Archer's chest.

"It's done. They're really going to kill him," he said heavily. "If only he hadn't—"

"Wait!" whispered Marian. "There's more."

The king's spokesman continued reading from the verdict.

"However, in deciding upon your sentence, other factors have been taken into consideration. Upon the testimony of your friends, among them Robin of Locksley and Lady Marian, the king has learned of your valiant defense of the people of Nottingham when it was under siege by your former master, Sheriff Vaisey. You shared with Robin in holding the city for King Richard, and helped him bring Vaisey to justice. Many have testified as to your courage and selflessness in the face of great danger."

"Also, the personal testimonies of your friends have shown to the king that you are of a reformed character from the time when you committed these offenses, and have clearly demonstrated a sincere and heartfelt remorse for the harm you have caused the king and others."

"For these reasons, our lord, King Richard, has decreed that, although you are deserving of death, he will extend mercy and commute the death sentence. It is therefore his judgment and decree to spare your life."

Guy looked ready to drop. Robin realized he was holding his breath, and let it out in a gasp. Meg lifted her head and stared, speechless for once. The others looked from one to another, as hope returned to their faces.

"Thank you. Thank you, sire," said Guy, in a faint voice. He could not lift his head, so shaken was he.

"Let's just hope now that he's not going to be exiled," muttered Archer. "Or worse, thrown into prison for the rest of his life."

"I think he'd choose to die first," said John. "But let's wait to see what they say."

"King Richard is further pleased to grant you a pardon, conditional upon your continued reformation, and your avowed promise never to take up arms or revolt against him again."

"This counsel, and the king, recommend you take this very seriously, Guy of Gisborne. This pardon was granted largely in consideration of your friends, Robin of Locksley and Lady Marian, not upon your own personal merit. There will be no clemency a second time. If you agree to the terms of your pardon, you will be released to the custody of Robin of Locksley. Do you accept these terms?"

This time Guy looked up, and addressed the counsel of the king's advisors, and King Richard.

"I accept them, your Majesty, and swear upon my life to live by them," he said.

"Then you are hereby released, and may you live the rest of your days in recognition of the king's mercy and the second chance you have been given."

"I will. Thank you, sire. From my heart, I am grateful." He bowed low toward Richard.

"Unchain him," commanded the spokesman. "This hearing is now over."

The room broke out in applause. The cheers had far more to do with admiration for the king's magnanimous gesture toward the most notorious man in Nottinghamshire than any joy that the man was now free, but it mattered little to Guy's friends and family. They rushed forward to meet him, and reached him as the guards were unlocking his shackles.

Robin was the first to embrace him, but the others followed. They had to hug him over Meg, for she clung tight to him and would not let go.

Guy could not take it all in.

"I've been pardoned?" he said, his voice thick with emotion. "It's all over, it's really over?"

"You have," answered Robin with a wide smile and a thump on the back. "You're a free man! Well, as long as you behave yourself from here on in."

"I've been pardoned," Guy repeated, in a tone of wonderment, as if waking from a dream. He stared at Robin. "It's over. I am free…."

His voice dropped to a whisper, and his face went white. He staggered, and then went down, taking Meg with him. Robin grabbed him as he sank limply to the floor.

"Guy! Whoa, whoa, easy! Help me, John, I think he must have fainted!"

"Again?" chuckled Will, until Djaq nudged him in the ribs.

Robin sat down on the floor and cradled Guy's head in his lap. He slapped his face lightly.

"Come on, wake up, it's all done! You're going to be fine." He looked up at the others. "Someone get me some wine to bring him 'round."

Meg, having extricated herself, with Archer's assistance, from under her unconscious beloved, fetched a glass. By this time a small group from the audience, always eager for a bit of excitement, had gathered nearby. The spectacle of a big and terrifying man like Gisborne, laid out cold on the floor, was not a sight to be missed.

"Is he dead?" inquired more than one onlooker.

"No, just a bit overwhelmed, I think," Robin told them. He glanced up and realized that one among the crowd was King Richard himself.

"Sire," said Robin with a laugh, "I think you gave him the shock of his life!"

Robin caught the amused twinkle in Richard's eyes as he watched Robin and Little John attempt to get some wine into Guy to rouse him. Guy moaned and opened his eyes.

"Hey, it's okay. Come back to us! You've really got to stop this fainting stuff, Guy. You're too big for me to lift!"

Guy smiled weakly at Robin and John. He turned his head and saw the king. "Sire, thank you."

King Richard nodded, and his manner became crisp and business-like again.

"I will see you both tomorrow at Locksley Manor. Once you've worked out the details between you, we'll have the papers drawn up."

"Details? Papers, your Majesty?" inquired Robin as he and John helped Guy to stand up.

"The lands and property that belonged to your father are to be returned to you," King Richard told Guy, who was now fully conscious but a little unsteady on his feet, and whose gaze was still a bit fuzzy.

"You'll own your father's portion of the Locksley estate, Gisborne. It should have been yours all along. Do I assume correctly, Robin, that you agree with me?"

"Of course, sire!" answered Robin.

"I'll have my own lands?" Guy looked from Robin to the king and back again.

"And a house, once it's rebuilt, and your title. You'll be Sir Guy of Gisborne for real this time," said Richard.

Guy could only stare in bewilderment. "Sire, I-I don't know what to say…."

"Now don't go and faint on me again!" laughed Robin. "You've gone white as a ghost. Here, have some more wine."

But Guy didn't faint. Instead, all the fear and shame and misery of the preceeding weeks, indeed, of all the years since the loss of his parents, from which point his life had gone so terribly wrong, burst out of him in a flood of convulsive sobs. He sank back down on the floor, buried his face in his hands, and cried as he had not cried since losing Marian.

Meg sat beside Guy, her arm through his and her head against his shoulder. After a moment, Robin knelt down next to him and tried to shake him out of it, but Marian stopped him.

"Let him, Robin," she said gently. "He needs to get it out."

Some in the crowd looked embarrassed, a few smiled, but on many faces there was a measure of compassion for the sight of a strong, proud man like Gisborne so broken down. Robin nodded to his men, who took the hint and encouraged the spectators to disperse. Guy had been humbled already, and very publicly. Robin saw no point or purpose in humiliating him any further.

The king lingered a moment longer before telling Robin, "I'll be at Locksley at noon tomorrow, and we'll talk more. For now," he gestured down toward Guy, "I think you'd best get him home to rest for a while."

"Yes, your Majesty, I think you're right. And, thank you. I'm in your debt."

"As I am in yours, Robin of Locksley. Until tomorrow, then." He departed with his secretary and his bodyguards.

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Finally, after some minutes, Guy was calm again. "I'm sorry—"

"Nothing to apologize for, my friend. It's been quite a day, for all of us, but you especially. Come on, let's go home. We have a lot to talk about." He and John helped Guy up.

"I'm all right," he grumbled, as he wiped away his tears with something of returning pride. "Don't fuss over me."

This did not deter Meg, who was busy smoothing his hair back from his hot, flushed face, but he only beamed down at her, and kissed her blushing cheek.

"You need some rest and some decent food in you," said Archer.

"Well, I won't argue that. Prison food hasn't improved much since my last memorable stay in the Nottingham dungeon."

"Got a taste of your own, Gisborne?" teased Little John.

"Shut it, John."

John grinned at Guy like he'd received a superb compliment. Guy sneering, and mouthing sarcasm, was a good sign that he was returning to himself again.

"I wouldn't mind something to eat myself," threw in Much as he patted his stomach. "It's been rather a long day, all in all. Makes a man hungry."

"Much, are you ever not hungry?" asked Djaq.

"Yes, when I'm fast asleep!"

He could not understand why his reply, given in all truth and sincerity, made the others, even Guy, all laugh aloud.


	30. Chapter 30  Friend, Brother, Family

"TO FRIENDSHIP, BROTHERHOOD, AND FAMILY"

The plates were piled high with food, and Matilda's mead flowed freely from the earthenware pitchers, as a tired but very happy group of people sat together at the table in Locksley Manor in the drowsy summer twilight.

Allan, overjoyed at the news of Guy's pardon, insisted on joining them, so Guy and John carried him carefully downstairs, and laid him down on a couch in the dining hall. None of them stayed up for long after supper, however, and morning was well along before any of them stirred from their beds.

Tuck arrived late in the morning, carrying with him the legal documents pertaining to the Gisborne and Locksley estates, which had proved so useful in convincing King Richard that Guy had lost his property and title unjustly. It was only then that Guy learned he had Tuck to thank, and not just Robin, for the part he had played in securing his pardon and restoring his inheritance to him.

The three men seated themselves at the table and poured over the papers. By the time King Richard arrived at the manor shortly after noon, Robin and Guy, with Tuck's assistance, had ironed out the details between them, and reached an amicable accord as to the division of the two landholdings.

Richard did not immediately get down to business, however. He called Gisborne to a private audience with him first. The others went outside while the two men met together inside the manor. The king's bodyguard emerged half an hour later, and asked for Robin and Tuck to come back in.

Robin glimpsed Guy's blanched face and lowered eyes as he joined them at the table, and was intensely curious to know what Richard had said to him. But Guy was never to reveal, to Robin or anyone else, not even Meg, what had passed between himself and the king he had twice tried to assassinate.

By the end of the afternoon, Guy was "Sir Guy of Gisborne" in more than his imagination, and a sizable amount of money had been returned to him, enough to rebuild his house and have plenty left over for his anticipated marriage. He also owned the portion of the village of Locksley and its lands that had been his father's.

The four men shook hands on the agreement. Robin watched Guy's face as he did so. Whatever had been discussed between Gisborne and Richard, it was clear to Robin that the king had kindled more than fear in Guy's heart. He had won his respect as well.

King Richard and his servants and guards stayed to have a meal with the residents of Locksley Manor that evening, but then it was time to say goodbye. They were headed back to London, and Tuck was to go with them. The former outlaws felt the parting keenly. Tuck had been their friend and comrade, and so often the voice of reason and good sense. His steady character and kind heart had endeared him to all of the gang.

"Come back to see us whenever you can, Tuck," said Robin. "You will always be welcome."

"Robin, my friends, I wish the best for you. Our paths will cross again, I feel sure of it."

He was embraced by one and all.

"Thank you, Will, for this," he added, as he fingered the tag Will had carved for him when he joined the gang. "I shall treasure it, and the memory of my time with all of you."

Lastly, he clasped Guy by the shoulders, and looked into his eyes.

"Be well, my friend, and stay out of trouble," he said in a low and stern voice, but he followed it with a warm smile. "Send me an invitation to your wedding, and I'll make sure I'm there."

"You're invited, Tuck, and yes, I will stay out of trouble," Guy replied as he shook his hand firmly.

After the king and his attendants departed, Robin surveyed his gang, who were looking forlorn at the loss of Tuck.

"Come on, lads, Marian, let's go inside and have a few more rounds of mead. I'm ready to get just a wee bit drunk tonight, and then take a nice, long rest for the next few days. What d'ya say?"

"I'll gladly agree to the rest, Robin, but you are definitely not getting drunk!"

"Aw, Marian!" they all exclaimed.

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But it was not Robin, or any of the others, who got drunk that night. Guy secretly took possession of several bottles of potent wine from Robin's storeroom, and carried them upstairs to his bedchamber.

He had fully expected to be dead and buried by that point. King Richard had every right and reason to put him to death. Guy had taken full responsibility for his actions, was resigned to his fate, and was prepared to face execution as bravely as he could.

The events that transpired instead, in the form of the king's pardon and the restoration of his lands and title, had taken him completely by surprise, and left him bewildered and in shock. It was too much for him to bear, and he reeled from it as from a heavy blow. He disappeared into his room after supper, shut the door, and numbed his ravaged emotions in the only way he knew how.

Robin found him laid out on his bed the next morning, after he failed to come down for breakfast.

"Drunk?"

"Dead drunk, Marian, out like a snuffed candle."

"Will he be okay?"

"He'll be fine, but he's going to have one nightmare of a hangover when he wakes up. I'd better get Matilda to mix him up something now. At least he was quiet about it. No hollering at the top of his lungs, no broken furniture."

"He ought to be ashamed of himself."

"Marian, give the man a break! You know what he told me last night? He said that if his sentence had been death, he planned to ask the king to give him a moment to say goodbye to his friends, and then be taken outside to have the sentence carried out immediately. 'There was no way I was going to spend another night in that prison', he said."

"Well, all the same, getting drunk doesn't help anything. Why you men think it does is beyond me. And Meg will be here to see him any minute. What will she say?"

"Hopefully she will understand and not scold him too much," Robin grinned.

Within half an hour, Meg was upstairs with him. And Robin predicted rightly. She didn't scold. The pounding headache and debilitating nausea Guy suffered for the rest of that day was, in her eyes, punishment enough.

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Having braced himself so thoroughly for death, Guy now found himself unexpectedly having to face life again, and the barrage of painful memories and regrets that death would have freed him from.

But he did not take to the bottle, as Marian had feared he might. In the days that followed, he found a better source of comfort and solace, in Meg's devotion to him. He poured out his bitter sorrow to her as he had never done with anyone else. She listened, and as he worked through his grief with her help, gradually the depression that had threatened to drown him began to lift, and he found the strength to embrace his new life with a grateful heart and a renewed sense of purpose.

Nottingham's inhabitants also continued to put their lives back together. The last of the injured men left the inn and returned to their families. Under Sir William, life in Nottingham and the villages was once again peaceful and prosperous, and people were reminded of the better days, before Vaisey, when Sir Edward had governed the town. The new Sheriff set in place more equitable laws and a fairer system of tax collection, and as a result, business thrived anew in the town square. True to his word, he also cleaned up the dungeon—no more beatings, torture, or semi-starvation.

Robin invited Guy to remain at Locksley Manor as his guest until his house was rebuilt. King's pardon or not, he knew it was unlikely that anyone else would offer to take him in. The outlaw camp in Sherwood had been abandoned by all of them for more comfortable quarters. The new Sheriff now occupied Nottingham Castle, but Guy had no wish to live there ever again in any case. He returned to his bedroom suite at the castle only long enough to retrieve his belongings.

This included his trunk of books, which he then gave to Ralf DeBracy. He told the young guard that it was a belated wedding present, but Robin knew better.

"It's his way of thanking you for standing up for him, and speaking in his behalf," Robin told Ralf, who was quite overwhelmed by the generosity of the gift.

As he watched Ralf carefully unpack the books and set them up in a prominent place in his small house, Robin smiled.

_Guy might have a reputation for never forgiving a wrong, _he thought_, but now I know he has another side to him. He never forgets a kindness, either_.

Guy could not, however, bring himself to remove the clothing and other items from Isabella's room. This duty was entrusted to a couple of servants under his supervision. All but a few small objects of sentimental value, and jewelry that had once belonged to their mother Ghislaine, was given away to those in need.

After this difficult task was accomplished, he threw off the last of his lingering malaise, and moved ahead with his house-building plans and his courtship of Meg.

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"Do you suppose he'll hire Will to help build his house?" Robin asked his lady one fine midsummer morning as they sat at breakfast. "He can hardly wait to start building. Have you been up in his room lately? He's got more sketches scattered around and tacked up on the walls."

"No, Robin, I haven't been up in his room. It's awkward enough having him living with us without me nosing around in his room."

Robin grinned at her. "Still carrying a torch for him, Marian?"

She scowled at him. "You're a tease, and no, I'm not. That was over years ago, and he's got Meg now, silly. He wants a home for her. Think about it, Robin. His family's house burned down twenty years ago. It's no wonder this means so much to him."

"Yes, but he burned Knighton Hall to the ground in a fit of temper and hurt pride, when you jilted him at the altar, remember? And he's been living illegally in my house for the last few years."

"You said that was all forgiven and in the past."

"It is. Well, we've got him as our house guest for at least a few more months anyway. Come on, don't frown at me, love. What was I supposed to do, leave Guy out on the streets? He had nowhere else to go."

"You could have talked it over with me first."

Robin decided it was in his best interests to change the subject.

"I've been tossing around an idea, Marian. It's been over two months since the siege, and things are getting back to normal again. I think enough time has passed that we could, in good taste, hold a little celebration here in Locksley."

"I think that if you hadn't just suggested it, I would have myself, very soon! Who should we invite?"

"Well, all the obvious people, of course, and Ralf and his wife, and Matilda, and perhaps a few from the other villages."

"What about Meg's father and his new bride?"

"I think we could do so safely, now that he and Meg have made their peace with each other."

Marian laughed. "Sir Wallace is really not such a bad man when you get to know him. But I think he's still struggling with the idea of Sir Guy of Gisborne as Meg's suitor, and his potential son-in-law."

"Huh! Meg, the girl who thought men were so stupid, and then she falls madly in love with Gisborne. Just proves that there's someone for everyone."

"Well, Meg informs me that Guy really turns on the charm when he's at their house. She has every faith that he'll win over her father in time."

Robin chuckled. "He takes some getting used to, I admit. He's still got that dark and dangerous edge. But he can be very charming when he wants to be. Even Will has learned to like him somewhat. That reminds me, did you see the leather eye patch Will's fashioned for Allan? He's promised to make him a set of crutches, too, when his legs heal."

"Darling Allan! Now there is someone who should be honoured at our party, not just invited."

"I agree. He's an inspiration, Marian. 'I've still got one good eye,' he said to me. 'I'm not blind, and there's nothing wrong with my arms!' You watch, he'll be up and about and moving around on those crutches in no time at all."

"And no doubt he'll do so with such style that he'll make it fashionable to be one-eyed and crippled! He's a brave man, and I wish all the best for him. I'd love to see him with a wife and a nice big family of children."

"I wouldn't count on him getting married anytime soon, but if he does, he'll have a way to support a family. Guy and I have talked about asking Allan to be the overseer of our estates."

"Oh, Robin, how wonderful for him! Do you think he'll accept?"

"We'll see. It wouldn't be too hard on him, mostly just supervising the workers and keeping records. Our current caretaker, as you know, is ready to pass the reins to someone else, but he's willing to train a new man. Will has got his carpentry business up and running now, did you know that? And he and Djaq have moved into his father's old house."

"I thought they were set on going back to live with her Uncle Bassam, in Acre. Have their plans changed, I wonder?"

"I don't know. Will hasn't told me. I hope they decide to stay, Marian, at least for a while. It would be sad to see them go. We wouldn't likely ever see them again. I'd hate for our little gang to scatter to the winds after everything we've been through together."

"Well, Much isn't going far. He's so happy over getting Bonchurch that I doubt he'll ever leave it."

"I heard some news from Much yesterday. Do you remember the young woman he knew years ago? Eve was her name."

"A little bit. He liked her quite well, didn't he?"

"Loved her, more like. He met up with her again a few days ago. She married just last year, but her husband was killed in the siege."

"Oh, how terrible! How sad, to be married such a short time!"

"Yes, but Much still cares for her. She's grieving her husband, so there's nothing he can do right now, but he's hoping that maybe, in time, she might consider him."

"Perhaps there will be a happy ending for both of them," said Marian. "Dear Much deserves that. He's thought of everyone but himself all these years. I'd love to see him married and with a family of his own."

"Marian, you want to marry off everyone. You're an incurable romantic."

"And what's wrong with that? Let's start with Guy. We'll get him married first. He isn't going anywhere, either. He'll be right next door. And Archer."

"Not sure yet about Archer. There's some talk that he may join the king's private guard, like I did. It seems that Richard took a fancy to Archer and offered him a position. Guy and I would prefer that he stay here with us, of course, but Archer's still a young lad. He hasn't got his adventurous nature tamed yet. I don't think he's ready to settle down to life in Locksley."

"He may change his mind down the road. And I'm sure he'll come to see us. He loves you and Guy both too much to stay away for long."

"I'm more than ready to settle down, I can tell you, and so is Guy. He told me that he plans to hang his sword up over the mantlepiece in his new house, and take it down only to polish it, and maybe play with it once in a while when his wife isn't looking. If he has a son, he'll pass it on to him. But his fighting days are over, and so are mine."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"He told me if he lives long enough to have children, and is around to watch them grow up, he'll be a happy man, and if he lives even longer and sees his grandchildren born, he'll consider himself truly blessed."

"He's getting to it later than most."

"I joked with him the other day about it, that he'd better get going and start a family pretty soon or he'd be too old."

"You said that to him?"

"Yes!" Robin laughed. "No sooner were the words out of my mouth when he yelled, 'Old man, am I?' and picked me up and tossed me headfirst into a hay pile as punishment for my impertinence!"

"Did he hurt you?"

"Not a bit. Soft landing. It was better than being flung into the river again, or punched by that wicked fist of his. And he put his hand down to help me up after, and brushed the hay off me."

"And then he apologized?"

"No. He said I was too cocky for my own good, and I deserved it, and if I made any more wisecracks about his age, he'd throw me face-first into the manure pile the next time, and I could get myself out of it! You know, it's really wonderful to see Guy finally getting a sense of humour, even if it is a bit sick and twisted."

"I think it's wonderful to see you both as friends now. But you shouldn't twit him about his age. He's already self-conscious about the age difference between him and Meg. And you're not that much younger than him, don't forget."

"She's twenty, and he's almost thirty-five. Meg doesn't seem to be bothered by it."

"She's so in love with him that nothing about him bothers her."

"I know. I worry for her. The poor girl is so besotted I fear she won't be able to say no to him. She'll have a baby every year, you watch. He'll have to keep adding rooms onto his house for all the children they'll have."

"Robin, you are being very bad! And Guy is every bit as besotted as she is, if not more!"

"Well, either way," he said, "she's got him. She'll lead him around and order him about, and he'll be happy and content to be ruled over by her."

"She adores him, and that makes all the difference. She'll be a gentler tyrant over him than Vaisey or Prince John, at least."

"Speaking of children, John hasn't stopped talking about the children at that orphanage since he brought those two boys there last week. I'm beginning to think he might go back, I mean, to stay."

"It would be such a good thing for him if he did. John loves children. It hurts him to be here in Locksley, with so many memories of his wife and son."

"If he does go back, at least he won't be going very far away. We'll see him often enough.

Marian's smiled faded. "Robin, what about us? What if we can't have children?"

"Let's not give up yet, love. We haven't been married two years."

"But the Saracen physician said I might not be able—because of my wound—"

He reached across the table and took her hands. "Let's give it a little more time, and see what the next year brings us. Right now we have a party to plan."

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The party at Locksley did not take place for another month, as the harvest was an abundant one, and all hands were needed to bring it in. Other work commenced in the village of Locksley that summer as well. Will was among several skilled craftsmen whom Guy hired to build his house.

"Gisborne Hall", as Guy christened his future home, was to be built on the site of his former family home. The foundation stones from the burned-down house were still in place, but a blacksmith shop had been erected on the grounds in the intervening years.

Though Guy had no general benevolence in his nature to bestow on people, he was conscious that many of the residents of Locksley were as yet very fearful and uneasy around him. Desirous now of not offending anyone with his overbearing manner, he had a new, larger shop built nearby, at his own expense, for the use of the village smith. Under Meg's good influence, he also cooperated with Robin to set up a fund to assist any of the villagers who came into need. These acts of consideration toward them did much to restore Sir Guy to the good graces of the peasants who worked his land.

The first walls of the new house began to go up by the end of the summer. Will shrugged off Robin's amusement that he was working for Gisborne.

"His money is as good as anyone else's," said Will. "Besides, it'll be a good reference for my business to have a customer like him."

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Finally, one pleasantly warm morning in early autumn, several cooks arrived at Locksley Manor, with three wagonloads of supplies. They set to work in the kitchen, while more servants came to decorate the dining hall with flowers, under Marian and Meg's direction. Every table and chair in the village that could be borrowed was taken to the manor, and set up inside the hall and under the trees outside, which were hung with lanterns.

That afternoon, the guests began to arrive, and in the early evening, the party commenced. The peasants of Locksley and some from the other villages, who made up the majority of the guests, had not seen such a feast for many years. The tables were loaded with dishes of every kind, and mead and ale flowed in abundance. Soon, most were so satiated with food and mellow with drink that even Gisborne's presence at the head table no longer irked them. After the lengthy meal, the tables were cleared, and a hired group of musicians provided the lively backdrop for a dance.

Robin and Marian joined their guests in the dancing. Will and Djaq took stage in one corner of the crowded hall, and taught several of the more daring revelers the dances that Djaq had learned as a child. Their audience laughed heartily to see tall and lanky Will Scarlett, usually so quiet and reserved, spinning madly about the room with his Saracen wife in his arms.

No one laughed louder than Allan, though he knew it would be a long time, if ever, before he could join in any dancing. He was determined not let Vaisey's cruel act destroy his happiness, however, and he was equally determined that he would eventually walk again unaided.

All the same, he was deeply grateful for the offer from Robin and Guy to be the caretaker for their estates, for his greatest fear was that he would end up living on charity. Now he had a chance to earn a respectable living.

In preparation for this, he had begun to move about on the crutches Will had made for him. It was excruciatingly slow going, and he often felt like a young child taking its first steps, but every day he practiced for longer periods of time, and would not accept or tolerate anyone's pity as he did so. He fought back the grief and anger that might have consumed him with a sunny smile and a ready laugh, and a quiet courage that impressed all who knew him best.

As he laughed at Will's antics, his attention was caught by a group of village girls across the room, and by one of them in particular. She had lovely blonde hair, and a face he remembered having seen before. Wasn't she from Clun?

She turned from her friends, and sent a shy smile in his direction. It was the third time she had done so, and this time he was certain that her smile was meant for him, and her welcoming glance was one that saw beyond the crippled legs and the eye patch. He hoisted himself off the bench with a pleased grin. Time to find out her name.

Marian had invited Eve to the party. She arrived, pale and thin with sorrow from her recent loss, but accompanied by Much. She did not appear averse to his companionship, and Much entrusted his future happiness to time and his tender, patient attentions to the woman he loved.

Little John came from the orphanage, where he was spending increasing amounts of his time, to join in the celebration and to see his old friends. He found his work among the parentless children there to be immensely satisfying. Few saw deeply into John's heart, for he was not a man to talk about his feelings openly. Even fewer were aware of the grief and pain that still haunted him from the loss of his wife and son. But John's was a big and a full heart, and he gave generously out of it to all. The children at the orphanage loved him. He was plain-spoken, strong-armed, and yet so gentle "Papa Bear" to all of them.

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The dancing couples soon found the hall too hot and crowded for comfort, and the celebration spilled outside, to continue under the lantern-lighted trees and cool green lawns of the manor. The host and hostess, feeling the need for a short break from the noise and heat, stepped outside into the twilight, walked toward the little pond near the village square, and looked up to the deep blue sky, where a full moon was rising above the trees. Robin held Marian against his chest and kissed her hair.

"Happy, love?"

"Oh, yes. And you?"

"Very happy. Who could have imagined, a year ago, how it would all work out? But, I think the best is yet to come, Marian. I'll tell you one thing—I'm glad our new Sheriff is working out. I needed a break from sneaking into Nottingham to steal the Sheriff's treasure, and rushing about the countryside trying to keep the peasants from starving while listening to Much complain for the hundredth time about how hungry he was. And no more rescuing pretty damsels and black-hearted villains from the brink of death. A nice, quiet rest is what I need. With you. Not too quiet and peaceful, though. Where would be the fun in that?"

She laughed. "Robin, you think of nothing but fun."

"Speaking of fun, where's Guy gotten himself to?"

"I don't know. He and Meg were together at dinner."

"Yes, and he looked positively smug about it, like the cat that made off with a pitcher of cream. Has he proposed to her yet, I wonder?"

"I'm sure he will soon. If I know Guy, he wants to have something to offer her first. Now that his house is being built, he has it. It's a matter of manly pride, I would assume."

Robin smirked behind her back at this remark as Marian continued, "I'm glad for him. It's good to see him so happy. He's had little enough to smile about in his life. He's worked so hard to turn his life around these last few months, he deserves a little happiness."

Robin smiled to himself, thinking it might take more than Meg's devotion to change Guy's essential character, if anything could. But he stopped himself from saying so to Marian. She was a bit sensitive about Guy, and eager to make the most of any spark of goodness, however small, that she saw in him.

"Marian, I think you're the kindest, most forgiving person I've ever met. No wonder I love you so much."

They walked back across the lawn of Locksley Manor, rounded the corner of the house, and came upon Guy and Meg, standing close together in the moonlight, their arms around each other. His head was bent to hers as he kissed her deeply. Lost to everything else, seeing nothing but each other, they remained unaware of Robin and Marian. They parted, and Guy gazed down at Meg's face, cupped in his hands. His eyes were dark and tender with ardent passion, and in her uplifted eyes was an answering, undying love.

Robin and Marian realized they were inadvertently spying on a very private moment. Turning to smile at each other, they melted silently back into the shadows, and made their way toward the front entrance of the manor, the well-lit dining hall, and the sounds of merriment coming from within. At the doorway they stopped before going back inside to rejoin the party.

"Well, now we know where Guy is. He and Meg having their own little celebration, would you say?"

"I think it's sweet, and a perfect new beginning for him. She loves him, Robin, and he loves her. And, he needs her, too. Don't forget, it was Meg who started him down the path he's on now."

"I think you may have had something to do with it. But Meg's quite reformed him, I agree. Beauty has tamed the beast. He hasn't tortured or killed anyone that I know of in at least a week."

"I told you a long time ago there was good in him, remember? You didn't believe me. But you were wrong about him, admit it."

Robin stopped his teasing, and was thoughtful. "She saw good where there was none," he said.

"What?"

"That's what Meg told us Guy said about you. You saw good in him when he couldn't see anything but bad."

"And Meg did, too. This will be a chance for him to start over with someone he hasn't wronged or hurt."

"It's a good thing, too. Believe me, Guy knows full well he's got a long way to go to live down his past."

"Meg will help him, Robin. She's such a nice girl, woman, really. No one doesn't like her. When Meg is Guy's wife, it will make it easier for people to accept him. She'll keep him on the right path, I have no doubt. He needs her kindness and her understanding. You'll see, she will help him find his place here. And she'll help him build a good reputation. She will be the making of him."

Robin caught the wistfulness in her voice. She turned to see his mischievous grin.

"Jealous, Marian?"

"Jealous, of Meg?"

"Don't be a spoilsport, Marian! Just answer the question. He loved you once, and you admitted to me that you once loved him. Are you sorry to be thrown over for Miss Meg Bennett?"

In answer she pulled Robin to her, and kissed him long and thoroughly.

"I'll take that as a no," he sighed when they parted.

"Just remember that, dearest. I'm with the man I love right now. You, and only you, forever. Meg is very welcome to Guy, with my blessing, and I hope and pray they will live a long and happy life together. I care too much for her, and Guy, to be jealous of their love."

They walked into the house, arms around each other.

"Although I must confess. Guy, well, he is very handsome, isn't he? Quite dreamy, really…."

"Marian!"

"Oh, who's jealous now?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Robin and Marian rejoined the party. While Robin oversaw the opening of a few more casks of ale and bottles of wine, Marian and two of the maidservants brought out the desserts. The dancing couples filed in and sat down to enjoy more of the feast. Marian caught a glimpse of Guy and Meg across the room. She was cutting a cake, made by Matilda especially for Robin, as it was a childhood favourite of his, when someone touched her arm. She looked up, to see Guy standing beside her.

"Marian, may I speak with you, alone?"

She set down the knife. "Of course."

She glanced around. Robin was deep in conversation with Allan and Little John. Meg was chatting with a group of women from the village. She followed Guy as he led her toward the front entrance, and for the second time at the party she found herself outside, under the night sky over Locksley, in company with a man. They stood under the overhanging roof, in the light of the lanterns, out of earshot of others.

Quite safe and proper, but Marian's heart was beating fast just the same. She had managed to avoid being alone with Guy since their reunion. She felt nervous, shy, uncertain—and then chided herself for acting like a silly young girl. Things were different now. She was Robin's wife. Nothing to fear.

She drew a deep breath and forced herself to look up at him. His arms were crossed on his chest, and he leaned against the door frame. The stance was one she was familiar with, and might have conveyed the idea of arrogant self-assurance, if not for the downward cast of his eyes. She waited for him to speak.

"I need to say this," he began, "while I can. Please hear me out."

He paused, uncrossed his arms, and gazed down on her.

"Marian, so much has happened in the last few weeks, I'm still taking it all in. I found out I have a brother, and I made my peace with Robin. And then seeing you alive. The Sheriff, finally dead. Meg, of course. Then my trial, and being pardoned by the king. What I'm trying to say—not doing a very good job of it—is that I'm sorry, sorry for everything. I've been so wrong—"

"Guy!"

"No, please, Marian, let me say this."

He sighed deeply and went on. "Those weeks in prison gave me time to think about my life, what I had become. I'm not proud of it. I've hurt a lot of people. I have much to atone for. I can't rightfully expect anyone's forgiveness. I can only ask, and hope."

They walked slowly from the house, and down the path into the manor garden. They stopped by the edge of the pond, where she and Robin had stood only a short time earlier. She turned to him.

"If it means anything to you," she said softly, "I forgave you a long time ago. So did Robin."

He looked up. "I want so much to believe that."

"Then do! It's true. You've changed. Everyone sees it. You're not that man who served the Sheriff anymore. You've left it behind."

They were silent for a moment. Then she said, "Do you remember what I told you, in the Holy Land?"

"I remember. You said I was a decent man, and not a killer."

"I meant it."

"I wish I had listened to you then, and rid myself and all of us of the Sheriff like you wanted me to. How I regret that day!"

"But you did listen. The Sheriff is gone now, thanks to you."

"You also said it was my last chance to be a good man."

"Well, then, I was wrong, wasn't I? You got another chance after all."

"I can't rightfully ask for the reward you promised me," he said.

She caught his smile, and laughed. "No, Robin just might object. But I did speak for you to the king, like I promised."

"Yes, you did, and you'll never know how much that meant to me."

"You're a good man, Guy. Underneath, you always were, otherwise you wouldn't be here today."

"I can't go back and undo all the harm I've done."

"No, you can't. None of us can. All any of us can do is move forward. Guy, you've been given a second chance. Not everyone gets that. You need to make your peace with it. Make your peace with God."

"I have, Marian. I've asked Him to forgive me."

"Then you need to trust that He will. And then you need to forgive yourself."

"That's going to be a lot harder."

"I have faith in you. And so does Meg."

He smiled. "She has no illusions about me, anyway. She knows how black my soul is. Oddly enough, I find that comforting. I told her everything while we were together in prison. I was sure we were both going to die the next day, so I didn't hold back. I thought she would hate me for it, but she didn't. And she still wants to be with me."

Then the smile faded. His voice lowered, and grew very tender.

"Marian, I'm only going to say this once more, and then we'll leave it behind us forever."

She was aware of him as never before, his physical presence—powerful, masculine, intoxicating. His intense, compelling gaze caught and held her, overwhelmed her.

"I've loved you since the night we met, and I'll never stop loving you."

The memory of another time came to her, when he drove the breath from her body with his kiss….

"I can't help loving you, but I was wrong to do what I did. I should never have tried to take you from Robin."

She could scarce look at him. He was the most beautiful man she had ever seen, or ever would see. She hardly heard his words over the beating of her heart.

"You belong with him, and always have. I will never come between you, you have my word. Robin is my friend, and my brother. I won't betray him. I want you to know that. And—I so much want us to be friends, as we once were. Do you think we can? Or do I ask too much?"

She drew in her breath in a gulp, and let it out. Her body relaxed, the hot flush of her cheeks cooled. She searched to find the right words to say. When she did, they tumbled out of her in a rush.

"Guy, I want your friendship. I care about you. It's different now between us, of course. I'm Robin's wife. But I do care for you, like, like a brother. Well, you are in a way. With Robin, and Archer. We're almost family, after all."

"Yes. Family." He paused, and looked out across the little pond. "You know, I've felt alone my whole life, until now."

"Not anymore. And there's Meg. Guy, she loves you."

"I know." There was something in his voice that told Marian he felt himself very undeserving. He turned back to her with earnest eyes.

"She saved me, Marian, in every way. If not for her I would have died in despair, hating all the world, and myself most of all. I love her. I'm going to ask her to be my wife. Soon. Maybe tonight if I get my courage up."

"She'll say yes, I'm sure of it."

"This doesn't change how I feel about you."

"No, Guy. But there are many ways to love. And I do love you, but this, this is how it should be. I will always love you, too, but now I will as your friend, and your sister."

"Yes, my sister. The sister I should have had."

She touched his arm. Their fingers met. He pulled her to him. A kiss against her cheek left a trail of fire across her skin. He brushed her hair with his lips. She breathed in the scent of him, felt his warmth, his strength.

"Marian, dear Marian," he whispered softly to her. "Thank you. Go now, back to Robin. He'll be missing you. I'm going to find Meg. There's something I want to ask her."

He released her. She watched him stride toward the house, to the waiting Meg. He paused in the doorway, and turned to look back at her. A sudden smile lit up his face, and the worn, lonely years, the grief and sadness and shame, fell away from him. For a moment he looked as light-hearted as a boy, and she thought she saw him then as he might have been, if life had been more kind to all of them. He gave her a slight bow, and the vivid and fervent glow of his eyes, once more, before he stepped back inside the house, and was gone.

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Marian stayed in the garden, unready to go back to the party, and Robin. She was too full of Guy—his words, his face, his eyes.

_If, so many years ago, before Robin came back from the Crusades, if Guy had been like he is now…._

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. _No, you made your decision long ago. You could have had him once, more than once. You said no. You love Robin, and you always have. And Guy? Did you really expect him to devote himself to you forever, with no hope of a return? To pine in vain for you all his life? _

_It would not be fair, to either of us. He's lost so much of his life already, so much he can't get back. He deserves some happiness, for whatever remains of his life, and he'll find it_ _with Meg. She loves him, and he loves __her, far more than he loves me now, though he doesn't know it yet._

_Robin is my friend, my lover, my soulmate, in a way Guy never could be. It would never have worked for us. There were always too many bad memories between us. Meg doesn't have that history with him. He has a chance to start over fresh now, with her. She will help him rebuild his life, and he will be assured of her love and devotion. She'll take my place in his heart. As it should be._

_I can't have it both ways. I can't have both men. Guy knows it, too. That's why he came to me tonight. It's his way of saying goodbye. He's loyal, loyal to Robin, loyal to their friendship. He'll never do anything to betray that. Funny how I've always seen that in Guy. And now he's become an honourable man, just like his father was before him. I could love him even more for it. And I do. _

She sighed. _But my heart is Robin's, and always has been. Guy is right, I belong with Robin. And Guy with Meg._

_Well, one thing is certain. I'm going to have to harden myself to it. After all, Guy is like a brother to Robin now, and I'll be like a sister. We'll be living next door to each other, and in each other's company a lot more from now on. I can't act like a young girl with a crush every time I'm around him, even if he is more handsome than any one man should be, and he stands in the moonlight telling me he'll love me forever…._

Marian brought herself up sharply. _Enough, silly girl! Stop this nonsense! Go back to Robin, and leave Guy to Meg. _

She walked toward the house, where Robin met her at the door.

"Marian! There you are. I was beginning to wonder if you were coming back in. Are you okay?"

She smiled and kissed him. "I'm fine, just getting some air."

"You were out there for the longest time, talking with Guy. Any problem?"

"It was nothing, Robin."

"What did he want to talk to you about for so long? Or could you just not resist his steely blue eyes and deep, velvety voice?" he teased.

"Now don't be so suspicious, dearest. He loves Meg, and wants to ask her to marry him. I think he was just looking for a little feminine counsel and advice, that's all."

She caught Robin's frown, but it quickly passed, and his smile returned. He trusted her. He took her hand, and together they went into the banquet hall to rejoin their friends. Guy and Meg were nowhere to be seen, to Marian's relief, as she did not feel up to another close encounter with him just then.

She looked up at her husband, into the playful twinkle of his deep blue eyes. _Guy has found his courage,_ she thought, _and he's asking Meg right now. _She laid her head against Robin's shoulder. _I made the right choice. Yes, this is the way it should be. I'm with the man I love, now and forever._

All the same, Marian smiled to herself with a certain satisfaction. Robin had no inkling of what she and Guy had said to one another in that moonlit garden in Locksley. He was never to know. To her dying day it was to remain locked away in the depths of her heart, her secret and Guy's. But it was the last secret she would ever keep from her beloved Robin.

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At last, well after midnight, the party began to wind down. Most of the guests had gone home, under their own power or trundled off by understanding friends. The gang gathered around the table in the dining hall after the last guests departed. Robin brought out several bottles of his finest wine that he had hidden away for the occasion. He was filling all their goblets when Guy and Meg joined them, with flushed faces and sparkling eyes.

"We have some news to share with all of you," Guy announced.

"Ah! Now here's something we can drink to!" cried Robin.

"Like we need an excuse," said Allan.

"I think we can all guess what the news is, if Miss Meg's rosy cheeks are any indication," said John.

Guy smiled, and put his arms around her. "You guessed right, John. I have asked Meg to be my wife, and she, brave girl that she is, has said yes."

The whole group erupted in a cheer. "Here Guy, Meg, join us. We'll drink to that!"

Robin stood up, and raised his glass toward them. "To you, Sir Guy, our congratulations and best wishes. To you, dear Meg, the future Lady Gisborne, our deepest sympathies."

"Robin!" cried Marian. Everyone, including Guy, laughed as Meg joined her in hitting Robin over the head with a wooden spoon.

"Now, you say something nice this time!"

"Ow! Easy! All right. How's this? To Guy and Meg, may your marriage be long and happy, may your quarrels be few and soon over, and may you fill your house with laughter, joy, and lots and lots of babies."

Smack! went the spoon again.

"Ouch, Marian! What was wrong with that?"

"No more wine for you. You've had enough to drink already. I'll say something sensible, if you can't. Guy, Meg, congratulations to both of you. We couldn't be happier or more proud!"

She hugged them both, and the others followed, while Robin poured another round.

"What shall we drink to next?" asked Guy.

"To friends, and to brotherhood!" said Robin.

"And sisterhood, too, Robin, let's not forget!" countered Marian. Meg and Djaq cheered.

"Yes, my dear wife. My apologies." He inclined his head toward her. "We shall drink to sisterhood as well."

With happy laughter the gang raised their glasses again. Marian happened to look at Guy as they did so. His drink was raised with the others, but a shadow passed over his face at the word "sister".

_He's remembering Isabella,_ she thought. _Some part of him will always grieve for her. We have all suffered, and we will bear our scars, seen and unseen, and carry our private burdens with us for the rest of our days. But we will all triumph as well. We will go on, and find joy amidst our sorrows. And we have each other to help us through. Our little family, right here._

Robin was thinking the same thing, if she had known it. He looked out at the the circle of his closest companions. His darling wife, his beautiful Marian. Loyal Much, his friend of so many years and trials faced together. Fun-loving Allan, meeting his own trial with a courage that was beyond praise. Little John, the big man with the bigger heart. Quiet, strong Will and Djaq, trusted and faithful. Archer, his newfound little brother, and his pride and happiness. Warmhearted, generous Meg, hand in hand with her lover. And Guy, his onetime hated enemy, but now the brother of his heart, and as dear to him as any brother could be.

"To friendship, to brotherhood, and sisterhood. And, one more thing."

He raised his goblet. Tears came to his eyes as he looked upon the beloved faces.

"To family," said Robin.

The End

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**Author's Note:** A big thank you once again to all the readers of this tale! I appreciate your interest and reviews very much!

So, do you suppose Marian and Guy ever quite achieve brother/sister status with each other? A clue? I doubt it highly, how about you? But, yes, he marries Meg, and learns how much more satisfying it is to love and be loved in return. He also learns that it feels pretty good, actually, to be nice to people for a change-LOL! Not that he's in any danger of becoming a saint. No, not Guy. We don't want him to stray too far out of character, after all.

What's next? I'm currently working on a short story, set about two years or so after the ending of this one. It will involve Guy, Meg, Robin, and Marian, and will be less full of "angst" and, hopefully, somewhat humorous. Stay tuned, and thanks again! Manxcatmom


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